Crimson
by HotChilliGriffin
Summary: What would you do if Death was chasing you? Would you die to protect your friends, your family? Or kill to survive?
1. Chapter 1

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: Look at screen name. Griffin. Not JJ Abrams. Okay?  
Summary: Kate meets the monster in the jungle, and only just survives – but now she's injured, alone, and Cerberus is very, very, mad.  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... though it could get dark. You've been warned.

A/N – Please review, and if you like it I'll keep going with it. And read the first two chapters before you make up you mind... the first isn't the greatest. Just an idea...

* * *

**Chapter one**

Kate stood rooted to the spot. The noise came again, which was enough to make her lose the frightened-rabbit eyes and run. She ran faster than she'd ever run before – it had come so close! Her sides heaving, she settled now into an unsteady jog. The monster was gone. But she couldn't forget the fear – forget how hideously close it had come. For a few moments, it had been _right behind her_.

She had dropped the mangoes she'd been picking. She wasn't really interested in going back for them. She just wanted to get back to the beach. She didn't know why it didn't like the beach, but so far it had never come onto it.

Crashing a plane was bad – landing on mystery island was about the only way to make it worse. Apart from dying. Maybe.

She scrunched up her face, concentrating. How long had it been? Five months? Six? She could ask Rose, who was unofficially in charge of keeping track of the days, so that they could continue to celebrate all the important dates. She smiled at that – because the crashees had come from so many different parts of the world, everyone had their own holidays, national and religious. They took note of as many of them as possible. It was the easiest way to keep spirits up and hopes alive (at least now they'd run out of alcohol).

Her pulse already calming, Kate slowed her pace. Odd. You always imagined monsters as fast, but this one, despite being a flying cloud of black smoke, couldn't keep up with a running person.

She had the thought a moment too soon – there was a sound like a car going through a mincer, and then the tree beside her exploded, knocking her sideways. She shrieked, and as she hit the ground the wind whooshed out of her.

Struggling to breath, Kate lifted herself to her knees, preparing to run – and froze. It was right in front of her. Staring. She thought it was staring, at least. It didn't have any eyes that she could see. It drifted closer, and Kate fancied she saw flashes of light... pictures of people she'd known and places she'd been.

She was trembling. It inched closer – well, it didn't really _inch_. Caterpillars inch. They have legs. Smoke clouds don't. So really, it kind of... wafted. In a bad way.

"Go away!" Kate shouted suddenly. The wafting stopped. "I mean it!" she yelled now, standing up. "Piss off!"

Now it wafted some more... in a good way. It was wafting away from her. She smirked.

"That's it, you bastard. Go away. I let you off light this time," she said. It felt good. The only person she could recall coming this close to the thing was Eko, and why it hadn't killed him no-one knew. It had, however, killed him at a later date, so it wasn't that much of a victory. And Juliet's sonar fence worked pretty well.

As if it could sense her thoughts, could read her mind, the good wafting stopped. The bad sort started again. And now, the flashes were showing her other things – bits of its life. There was a rage, a hatred at being so entrapped. Kate could feel the pain it had felt as it threw itself against thick concrete walls, again and again. It didn't work.

Then, that glorious day. It had been released – on one condition. _Protect the island_, Kate thought, and the flashes suddenly shifted. Their plane had crashed in its territory. They had defied it. Escaped it.

What are you? Kate wondered.

Cerberus. Once again, the word came from nowhere. Kate felt a dizzying feeling – she was actually communicating with the dreaded monster! After months of running, she was standing up to it... and winning!

Or not.

With a roar, the monster charged (or, maybe, super-wafted?) forward, and this time didn't stop. It hit Kate with the force of a runaway horse, and knocked her backwards. She stumbled and hit a tree, and then felt it lift her up, holding her chest in its... teeth? I'm sorry! She tried to apologise, for whatever she'd thought that had offended it.

It roared again. She had no idea how a creature like that made such a noise – how a smoke cloud could sound like a horrible machine. But it did, and it scared her to her core. Because it was undoubtedly a cry of rage.

There was one final flash, hidden deep within the folds of black smoke. Kate watched, from the monster's point of view, as it saw her and Juliet running, handcuffed together. It knew it had them. They couldn't get away. Nowhere to hide.

Then the fence. It hit the fence mindlessly, then reeled back in pain. Incredible pain. And the only thing it could see that could cause the pain were the two humans in front of it...

"It wasn't me," Kate whispered, as the pressure on her chest changed, and there was a hideous pain, so like the pain the monster had felt when it had hit that fence. One arm was already losing feeling. Kate couldn't be sure why. The other flailed around desperately, for a stick, or some sort of weapon.

_"Need a light?"_ _he asked.__ She nodded gratefully._

She pulled the lighter out and let the flame lick at the side of the monster. There was a moment when nothing happened, and she realised all was lost – after so long, she'd be monster mincemeat. Then there was a sound, like a train derailing, or a person getting sucked into a blender. A horrible, ripping sound, a noise of intense pain.

The monster, Cerberus, screamed again and again. Kate watched in horror. The tiny flame had caught, and spread. She'd never realised smoke monsters were so... flammable. It dropped her, and she hit the ground hard, but forgot her own pain at the spectacle before her.

The entire black cloud had turned into a fireball. The screeching continued, and Kate tried to pretend it was the horrible noise that made her cover her ears as best she could with one hand.

Then the sound stopped. Kate blinked. Cerberus had gone.

And so she let herself cry, from pain and relief and fear and guilt.


	2. Chapter 2

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: Look at screen name. Griffin. Not JJ Abrams. Okay?  
Summary: Kate meets the monster in the jungle, and only just survives – but now she's injured, alone, and Cerberus is very, very, mad.  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... though it could get dark. You've been warned.

**4-8-15-JuliaThorne-16-23-42** – Good to know you like it – but please don't die. I might get sued.

* * *

**Chapter two**

Kate retched, again and again. She'd long since emptied her stomach but she couldn't stop herself. When she had run out of tears she had continued crying through huge, gasping sobs, but when her body had began to chill, she stood up, determined to warm herself. But then the pain – she knew she was injured, but hadn't dared look at herself yet – had struck her, and she'd doubled over, gagging and retching.

Finally, she was able to stagger away. Some instinct guided her forward – maybe her subconscious, which knew this area of jungle pretty well. She came to a small creek, and fell onto her knees. She had her eyes tightly shut, because from the pain and the sickening wet feeling on her right side, she knew she was injured and bleeding. She didn't want to see the blood, but after a minute of resting, she knew she had no choice.

She opened her eyes and almost fainted. No wonder she couldn't feel her right arm. _It looked like it had nearly been cut off_. There was large, cylindrical holes in her shirt, leading to large cylindrical holes in her chest and stomach, which were all leaking a slow stream of blood. But she knew it was the arm that was the real problem.

Underneath the shoulder, there was a looseness – which she now attributed to the large slash cutting through God-knew-how-many levels of muscle and nerve and flesh. She wondered if it had cut an artery. It was bleeding a lot. And she was dizzy.

She retched again, but only made the pain worse. Blood was dripping into the water, which took away any thirst she'd had before. And in her reflection, she could see bone. She could see the socket where her shoulder attached to her arm.

Then she laughed. Loud, maniacal, hysterical. She laughed and laughed and laughed some more, the shudders shaking her body looking like sobs, which they sort of were... the sound echoed shrilly around her, and she hated it, which somehow made her laugh harder, and it wasn't until the spasms were causing her so much pain she could barely breathe that she managed to calm herself.

She pulled her pack around. It was ripped in a few places. She hastily pulled the zipper, and tried for a water bottle – but the liquid inside was so like the blood dripping from her she threw it away in horror. She retched again, but only once this time. Gasping, her mind slowly returning to a semi-normal state, she thought, _the bandages!_

Of course. Well, for once she was glad she'd lost an argument with Jack. A while back, he'd insisted that everyone pack a bandage or two into their packs when they went into the jungle, in case they or a friend were injured. Kate had admired the suggestion – she hadn't been so thrilled when he'd thrown two bandages at her.

_"Do you really think I'll need these?" she asked._

_"Maybe. Or maybe we'll be out there and I'll fall off a cliff. Never hurts to be prepared."_

It was the thought that Jack could be injured that had made her relent smiling, and stuff the scanty medical supplies into her pack.

She tipped her backpack upside down, unable to rummage through it with only one arm.

At the bottom was a pair of tightly wound bandages, slightly yellow and dusty from being at the bottom of her bag for so long. Gritting her teeth, she laid one end of the bandage against her shoulder, then began to roll it over so that it covered the enormous slice that had nearly amputated her arm. The moment the coarse material of the bandage touched the wound, she screamed for half a second, then the sound cut off as she swooned. The pain was beyond understanding. She realised now that to be killed by the monster, by Cerberus as it called itself, would be an excruciating death.

She hoped it didn't come back. Though it would have suffered terribly, burning, she hoped it was dead. Shaking terribly, praying that she could do this, Kate gently let the bandage move around her arm. She didn't touch the cut – but once the fabric had been wound the whole way around, she pulled slightly to tighten it. She knew the first coil would be the worse, because of direct contact with the open nerves.

A stifled groan escaped her. She would have screamed again, but the blinding, torturous pain had made her clamp her mouth shut. Then she wondered if she should scream. Hope that someone found her. What if the monster found her? She couldn't do this.

_"You can do this, I'm telling you!"_

"One, she whispered, forcing the syllable out through the haze that was slowly descending. Focus! "Two..." she said, her breath catching at the thought of what she had to do next.

She pulled. And working through the hideous pain, she wrapped the bandage around again. She had to manoeuvre it carefully, because she could only use her left hand, but after what seemed like hours of twisting the bandage, she came to the end. With a quick knot, she clamped it into place, and was now sitting by the creek, trembling.

"Eighteen..." she whispered. She'd gone a long way past five. But she kept counting.

"Twenty-nine..." And then she realised some of the shaking had stopped. Smiling a little to herself, she took a deep breath. It had worked. She was better. She stood up, slowly. And began to walk in what she thought was the way back to camp. She'd been here so long, knew this jungle so well, she should have got it right first time.

She didn't. She was going one-eighty degrees the wrong way. She pulled her pack on, and took a few hesitant steps. She didn't collapse immediately, and she knew she needed to get to the beach, get to Jack, so she kept walking.

Away from help.


	3. Chapter 3

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: Look at screen name. Griffin. Not JJ Abrams. Okay?  
Summary: Kate meets the monster in the jungle, and only just survives – but now she's injured, alone, and Cerberus is very, very, mad.  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... though it could get dark. You've been warned.

A/N – Please review, everyone! It makes me write faster **:- ** And as for chapter lengths, I'm basically going to end them where they end, rather than try and shove useless words in there.

**4-8-15-JuliaThorne-16-23-42** - Thanks so much! Because you are currently my only reviewer, I dedicate this chapter to you. Oops. Probably could have found a better chapter.

* * *

**Chapter three**

Sawyer scanned the beach warily. He knew she was mad. Just another in their long story of arguing. He sighed. He missed her already. Their bouts of silence were lasting less each time. It had only been a _day_, and he wanted to apologise. Him! Apologise! Funny how she could make him do that.

He headed to her tent. She loved being right. If he put himself down enough, she'd leap right at him... he smiled when he considered where that might be. He scratched on the tarpaulin, their method of 'knocking'. There was no answer. Cursing, he quickly checked inside. She wasn't there.

"Hey, hey, Jamie!" he called. He couldn't be bothered thinking of a nickname right now. Jamie, a pretty young woman, looked up at his shout. "You seen Kate?"

Jamie shrugged. "I saw her this morning. She was going off to pick fruit, like she always does. But I've been out with Craig, so if she's been back, I wouldn't know..."

"Okay, right," Sawyer said, nodding. He hated how so many people had noticed that he was always more polite, more decent, whenever the topic was Kate. Unless he was mad at her.

A short while later, Sawyer was feeling very frustrated, and equally worried. No-one had seen her since early that morning. She could take care of herself – according to her – but something didn't feel right. It didn't take nine hours to find some mangoes. Besides, if she'd filled her pack up, she'd have to come back and empty it before getting any more, or going for a walk – and he'd checked, there was no fresh fruit in the 'kitchen'.

"Hey, doc!" he called. God, this was a last resort if ever there was one. Jack looked up wearily.

"What is it, Sawyer?" he asked. Sawyer was impressed, though he would never show it – Jack managed to always be polite. Even to him. Though they were closer than they had been a few months ago. Friends came... in the same solar system, at least. Anyway.

"You seen Kate?" he asked. The worry somehow came through, and Jack looked up sharply.

"Is she missing?" he asked. Sawyer shrugged.

"No-one's seen her since this morning. And it don't take a whole day to climb a tree..." Sawyer trailed off. He could already think of a dozen awful situations; her getting lost (unlikely), falling out of a tree (possible), being attacked (he steered his mind away), staying away just to annoy him (well, she'd pay if that was right)...

"We'll just go... have a look," Jack suggested. "See if we can find a trail."

Sawyer raised an eyebrow. "You do realise that ever since Baldy nicked off, Kate's been the best tracker here?"

"Yes, Sawyer," Jack said tightly. "But I'm trying not to flip out here."

That surprised him. "Okay," he whispered. "I mean, she's probably fine."

"Wouldn't hurt to look," Jack concluded, and they headed for the jungle.

They were about a mile in when they came across Sayid, fiddling with some old, thin, wires. He had been trying to build a motor, but hadn't managed to get it to work yet.

"Sayid, have you seen Kate?" Jack asked. The Iraqi looked up, immediately concerned.

"This morning, we said hello a little way from here. She was getting some fruit. I was under the impression she'd be straight back to the beach..."

"Well, she hasn't been seen since," Jack said. Sawyer could see the lines on his face coming out that meant he was definitely worried. Sayid saw it, too.

"I could take you out to where I saw her... I might be able to follow a trail, if it's clear..." he said.

"It's nearly dark," Jack noted. "I want to find her soon. And she'd know to tell someone if she was going anywhere that would take her away from camp overnight..."

That was another of Jack's rules, that he'd imposed upon the little community. Kate scoffed it, but had so far always abided by it.

There was definitely something off about the scene where Kate had last been seen – there was a scuff mark on one tree, that seemed to indicate she'd climbed it. That was easy enough to understand. But then there was a dug up area of dirt, and a mango on the ground. It was barely ripe, so it couldn't have fallen naturally.

Another mango lay a little further, and then another three near that one.

"They're in a straight line," Sayid pointed out.

"She was runnin'," Sawyer said grimly. Jack's jaw tightened.

"She was running that way, so let's go," he said, and led the way.

It didn't take them long to find the scene of the attack. One tree was uprooted and lay on its side, across the track they were following. Jack, who was in the lead, started to climb over it, but then stopped.

"Oh God," he whispered, and then leapt over the tree. Panicking, already fearing the worst, Sawyer followed him. The ground was absolutely drenched with blood. Spatters of it were everywhere, and in certain places it was forming into thick, goopy, puddles.

"She's still alive," Sayid said, and Sawyer looked at him in shock.

"How do..." His voice cracked slightly. "How do you know that?"

"The blood. See, over there. Whatever happened, she was still alive, and capable of walking."

"What did happen?" Jack asked, his face white as he examined a few drops of blood. Around them, the light was fading. It would be night soon, and Jack didn't want to think about Kate, injured and alone, struggling to survive the night.

"I'd say the monster. Something must have attacked, but there are no other footprints, or animal tracks," Sayid replied tersely. Jack nodded once, then stood quickly.

"We need to find her. Now."


	4. Chapter 4

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: Look at screen name. Griffin. Not JJ Abrams. Okay?  
Summary: Kate meets the monster in the jungle, and only just survives – but now she's injured, alone, and Cerberus is very, very, mad.  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... though it could get dark. You've been warned.

A/N – I'm wondering now whether this should be M. It could be a little graphic later on. If anyone has thoughts on this?

**Ikon4332**** & ****4-8-15-JuliaThorne-16-23-42**– thanks for your reviews. Because I got two, I am updating now.

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**Chapter four**

Kate fell to her knees. The pain, which had been steadily increasing over the last few hours had just cut off. There was a pleasant numbness there. She saw the darkness creeping in, and thought, _I'd better build a fire_. But... shouldn't she be back by now? She wasn't that far away. Couldn't be.

Vision hazy and mind working on half-capacity, she struggled to comprehend where she was. The sun was setting over there... so that meant... what?

She was not where she should be. She was too far south. A long way inland, too. She touched the bandage gingerly, wondering if she should unwrap it. But the pain spiked for a second, and she let her hand drop down to her side. This was not good.

_Injured_, she thought. She'd never been seriously hurt before. Never. It felt surreal. Especially when she thought about _how_ it had happened. She shivered, and hoped once again it was dead. If something like that could die. Maybe it couldn't – but then, it could feel pain, so it wasn't entirely machine.

She sat back, and looked around. Fire. She needed fire. Cerberus didn't like fire. That thought, at least, helped her move. She wondered where the name had come from – whether the monster had somehow communicated its name, or if her subconscious had thought of it. From what she remembered of Greek mythology, Cerberus was the three headed dog who guarded the gates to hell.

_Appropriate_, she thought wryly. There was a rustling noise behind her, and she spun around, ears aching for the screaming-metal sound it made. In her frightened state, she could easily believe the monster had been drawn by her thoughts.

_Chicata-chicata-chicata_. Something dark flashed behind her.

Kate turned uneasily. She should have started the fire sooner. She tensed. It was nearby, she knew. The back of her neck prickled.

Then there was a flash of blinding white light. For a moment, it shone out through the gathering darkness, and then disappeared completely. Even before Kate could wonder why, she knew – she couldn't see a thing. She was blind.

She ducked on instinct, and felt something pass over her head. Then it came back, and smacked her in the back. It was as hard as a sack of bricks, and she fell forward. On impact, she hit her right shoulder on the ground, and cried out.

She rolled over, and found her vision was coming back, slowly. She could distinguish something dark... and with a shock realised it was right above her. There was a deafening roar, and she felt hot tears rush to her eyes. She was on her back on the ground, with a homicidal cloud of black smoke pushing into her chest and stomach.

There was a noise like knifes scraping together – and then a hideously painful sensation in her legs. It was making sure she didn't run again. She couldn't feel anything below her waist.

_The lighter_, she thought. _Need the lighter._ With her good arm, she tried to pull out her lighter again. It was stuck in her pocket, and the growling above her was growing more threatening every moment.

"No!" she cried aloud, not able to bear the thought of failing, of dying out here. This morning, everything had been beautiful. They'd been running short of fruit lately, sure, because the trees near the camp were empty – even up high – but never had she thought she may not see another morning.

The lighter came free, and with a triumphant yell, flicked it open in the monster's face. Cerberus backed off a little, and she knew it was remembering their encounter earlier. It knew the square box was to be feared. She didn't give it a chance to reconsider – she lit a flame.

Which flickered... and died. No matter how urgently she tried to light another, the lighter remained lifeless in her hand. And then another roar from the monster, this one gleeful. Smug, even. It knew she was helpless.

Kate rolled into a ball, trying to keep the invisible blades/teeth away from her. Something ripped the flesh along her back. It was laughing. She could feel it echoing inside her, its joy at having finally got her. It had been chasing her for a long time... and each time she had escaped. Twice she had caused it incredible pain.

The lighter was clenched in her left hand, but it was practically useless now. It was probably empty. She could see again, and her face was pressed against the crude bandage – which was by now soaked through with blood.

Night had fallen completely. Or maybe the cloud above her was stopping her from seeing anything else. She wasn't focusing on the pain anymore. She knew that it was dragging this out on purpose. It could have killed her already, by snapping her neck or biting through her throat, or by simply tearing her into a million pieces.

The bandage... Kate saw the dried flecks of blood, the rough fabric of the bandage. Something was taunting her. Right in her face...

The lighter. Suddenly Kate felt herself pull away from the pain. Was she dead? Maybe. But she had one last chance. A cigarette lighter – on the island used for everything from lighting fires to cooking small bits of meat – is full of compressed gas. When the wheel is turned, a spark hits the gas and a flame is produced. Kate's lighter was out of gas, so... what?

She tried to think. She probably had only seconds before Cerberus grew tired of its game and decided to finish her off. The lighter had no fuel... so give it something...

She knew if this worked, she'd go through a lot more pain. But if it didn't, she'd be dead. Not much of a choice.

She gave the lighter one more try. As it turns out, calico bandages are very flammable. And, dried blood is the perfect starter fuel.

Her whole arm was on fire, and with the last of her strength, she thrust her arm up, into Cerberus. Its screams joined her own, as the fire spread across both of them, the black smoke burning and Kate's shirt and pants all alight.

She wondered if she'd ever be able to hear again. Even now, the hideous, ear-blistering cries were fading out of her consciousness, but her own screams continued.

She was writhing around on the ground, and felt her skin burning. It was, actually, the movement that saved her. As she squashed the flames, they began to die down. And after a minute, she found herself lying in the jungle, unable to move and barely able to breathe.


	5. Chapter 5

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: Don't own Lost. As far as you know...  
Summary: Kate meets the monster in the jungle, and only just survives – but now she's injured, alone, and Cerberus is very, very, mad.  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... though it could get dark. You've been warned.

A/N – This is so short, I'll put it immediately No waiting for reviews... Thanks for all the ones I got for chapter three : - And please don't read this and wonder if I'm depressed. Or homicidal. I'm not, really.

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**Chapter five**

She wanted water. She knew that much. She couldn't move. Breathing hurt. It was so, so cold. But if she thought about the cold for too long, it suddenly became hot. Burning, screaming, hot. Then cold again. She almost wanted to die, right then. Just to end the pain and the freezing burning feeling, and the deep pain within her.

She may have cried. But there were no tears. She wished there were tears. She was so thirsty. She tried to sit up, and fainted.

She came to again. Water. She needed water. She realised she was lying on her pack. She wondered how much of the attack it had survived. She did know that earlier that morning she had packed a bottle, full of sweet, clear water.

Groaning, she rolled herself over, onto her stomach, so that she might be able to get at it. She managed the movement, but it cost her too much – she fainted again.

It was night. The night was dark, and cold. So cold. So dreadfully, shiveringly cold. Kate blinked. She was shivering all over. So cold... no. She was feverish. Sweat was beading on her forehead, then dripping down her face to land in the dirt.

Water. She wanted water. Counting every craving in her life, they didn't add up to as big a desire as this. This desperate, killing thirst. She would have traded every happy moment in the rest of her life – if she had one – for a single mouthful of water.

_In the bag_. She knew it was in the bag. She'd packed it this morning. She couldn't have drunk more than half. The effort was extreme. The pain immense. But she managed to pull her left arm behind her, and fumble with the pack. She reached in. Only the thought of that beautiful water kept her conscious.

_Sawyer_, she whispered. Maybe she only thought it. She couldn't move her throat. Her fingers fumbled inside her bag. She could feel things, but it was certainly lighter than when she'd set out. There was the other bandage. A knife, in a sheath. She wondered whether she should try and pull that out, in case Cerberus came back. No. If it came back, she was dead. And if she didn't find the water, she was dead.

And that was when she had to admit to herself. There was no water. She remembered now. At the creek, looking at the blood, looking at the red water, she'd felt so sick. She'd thrown her bottle, her precious, only, bottle away in disgust. And hadn't picked it up again.

There was no water. Now came the true pain. It started in her gut and worked its way up, to fill her with a deep bitter agony. So stupid. She'd killed herself. Though now, right now, she didn't care so much if she died. If only she could have some water first. Her body was shaking with dry, hacking, sobs. But no tears. No, not even that salty relief.

It was grief, in a way, that made her cry. And guilt, and self-blame. And the utter hopelessness that was covering her like a blanket. She was dead, she knew that much – not just yet, but there was no escaping that fact. The only thing that mattered was that it could take forever. It would be forever, for her, because nothing could come after.

Dying forever. She tried to think. How long _would_ it take? For her to die, from blood loss – probably the quickest choice – or dehydration? A day? Three? And that brought on another wave of loss and despair.

There was blood pooling around her. She ignored it. Just another indication of how easily her life had been cut short.

Never had she felt so alone. There had been times when she was sure grief would kill her, but in reality it couldn't. Not like now. Not with this much blood... something about blood. Something important about blood...

The human body is ninety seven percent water. Blood was a liquid, and most liquids had some percentage of water in them. Disgusted, but too desperate to think about it, Kate lowered her lips to the puddle of her own blood.

And drank.


	6. Chapter 6

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: Don't own Lost. As far as you know...  
Summary: Kate meets the monster in the jungle, and only just survives – but now she's injured, alone, and Cerberus is very, very, mad.  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... though it could get dark. You've been warned.

A/N – thanks for all the reviews! Please, keep them coming! They make me feel good and thus more likely to update.

**4-8-15-JuliaThorne-16-23-42** – Sorry, but yes, I am a Skater. Though that doesn't really affect the story. But yeah, I can put in some good Jate moments. **: - 

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**

**Chapter six**

You didn't need to be a tracker to follow Kate's trail. Jack, Sawyer and Sayid were running through the jungle. It was fully dark, but they hadn't taken the time to light torches. There was less blood now, and Jack wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. Either whatever wound she had was closing, or she was running out of blood.

Suddenly, Jack tripped over a tree root and landed face first in the dirt. By the time Sayid was reaching a hand out, he was already on his feet. He was about to start running, when Sayid said, "Stop." Jack looked back, alarmed, wondering whether he'd seen something.

"We need light," the Iraqi said, and Jack scowled, but knew he was right. He started gathering dry bits of wood to turn into torches. Sawyer wasn't moving.

"We don't have time," he argued.

"It will not do Kate any good to injure ourselves or lose the trail," Sayid replied.

"Maybe it's a head wound," Jack muttered to himself. Sawyer looked up sharply. "I mean, head wounds bleed a lot..."

"How much blood is there, Jack?" Sawyer asked.

"Too much," the doctor replied.

"Right. You two organise torches. I'm going ahead," Sawyer said, already heading along the trail.

"Sawyer, no! We shouldn't split..." Jack trailed off as Sawyer ignored him. His eyes met Sayid's.

"If he gets lost, we're leaving him out there."

"Agreed."

But Sawyer had learnt a few tricks of tracking in his time on the island. He needed to keep the blood on either side of him. In the night, it showed up as a shiny spot of darkness amongst the black leaves.

He almost wished he'd waited for Jack and Sayid. But Kate was _his_ girlfriend, wasn't she? He turned a corner – and froze. For a few seconds, he couldn't move. She looked dead. There was a smell in the air, one that he couldn't quite place.

Then he ran over. He didn't touch. He didn't know what to do. _This was why Jack should be here_, he thought bitterly. Could he move her? What if she had a broken neck? Or was it broken spine you couldn't move them... he didn't know.

Then, very gradually, he realised she was breathing. Tiny, quick inhalations that pushed her back up and then let it fall slowly down again. Sawyer couldn't take it anymore. He gently turned her, so that he could see her face.

And was astonished by the blood. It covered possibly every inch of her. Her head, chest, arms, legs, were all shiny, covered in fresh and old blood. He was even more disturbed by her arms – they felt slick. Rubbery.

"Kate?" he whispered. A flicker. "Kate, please, Kate can you hear me?"

She opened her eyes. It was the most beautiful motion he'd ever seen. He realised he was trembling. "Hey, Freckles, I'm here."

"Sawyer," she said, her voice weak and cracked. Her eyes began to close again. Then, they snapped open again with an energy he could only describe as ferociousness.

"Water," she whispered. He nodded, feeling stupid once again. Sayid had the water.

"Just a moment, Freckles. There'll be water," he promised. The look in her eyes was one of the worst things he ever had to see. It was close to betrayal, and even closer to hatred. He gently lifted her up, so that he was cradling her body, and felt how clammy her skin was.

"Jack!" he yelled. How long did it take to light a pair of damn torches? Sure, they hadn't had much good fuel, but still... "JACK!" he yelled again, as loud as he could.

"Don't... yell!" Kate whispered hoarsely. He looked down. "Quiet... or it'll come back."

"What'll come back?" he asked, knowing she referred to whatever had attacked her.

"Cerberus," she said with difficulty. He laid a hand on her chest – underneath, he could feel her breath struggling into and out of her lungs.

"Water," she asked pathetically. He swallowed nervously.

"Yes, Freckles. Water's coming. Jack has the water, he'll be here in a sec..."

But Jack wasn't there. Which led Sawyer to ask – where the hell was he?


	7. Chapter 7

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: If you actually believe I would own Lost and then go write Fanfiction, please send me $30.  
Summary: Kate meets the monster in the jungle, and only just survives – but now she's injured, alone, and Cerberus is very, very, mad.  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... though it could get dark. You've been warned.

A/N – Sorry, another short chapter. These will happen a lot, I'm afraid, but I hope i'll be able to write and post them faster. Thanks for all your reviews! They make me feel loved!

**4-8-15-JuliaThorne-16-23-42** - Hmmm... No, I think Jack is being held up by something a little more urgent than peeing. But good guess...

* * *

**Chapter seven**

Jack struggled with the lighter. This was the difficult bit. Because if the tinder they'd gathered didn't come up immediately, he'd burn his finger. Eventually, though, it caught, and he was able to let the flame licking at his hand die.

"C'mon," he said to Sayid. "Let's see if we can catch up to Sawyer."

Just then, they heard Sawyer, yelling Jack's name. Jack turned, concerned.

"He's found her. We better –"

His voice cut off at a sound behind him. He turned uneasily. Sayid, too, was looking backwards.

_Chikata-chikata-chikata_.

"We'd better... umm... keep moving," Jack said, a little nervously. He'd had enough run-ins (or run-aways) with the monster to know what it sounded like. He turned back towards the trail, and stopped.

The black smoke cloud was already there. It was getting bigger, too, growing. Jack had managed to catch glimpses of it before, and had a few first-hand accounts of what it looked like, but had never been this close to it. The same could be said for Sayid, who was a pace behind him.

It didn't come any closer. Jack swallowed nervously, and lifted the torch higher so that he could see the whole thing at once. It truly deserved the name _monstrous_. It towered over him, nearly reaching the tops of the trees around them. It hovered a metre or so above the ground, and now Jack was aware of a low growling noise.

"Why isn't it attacking?" he asked Sayid quietly. The monster was merely waiting, watching. It was unnerving at the least.

"I do not know. It may be evaluating what sort of threat we pose..."

"I don't think this thing even knows the word 'threat'," Jack replied. Then he was hit by a horrible thought. "Kate wouldn't have stood a chance."

"We know she was still alive after the attack, Jack," Sayid pointed out. "We found footprints. She was able to walk."

"She was walking away from camp," Jack pointed out. "It may still have been chasing her."

Even as they talked, the cloud didn't move. No wafting in any direction, but the low growl continued. And then it roared. Jack and Sayid both stepped backwards, Jack dropping the torch as he did so. He didn't mean to, but couldn't pick it up because then the monster rushed forward forcing him to take another step back.

"Jack!" Sawyer was yelling again, and suddenly the cloud stopped. It was completely motionless. Like a dog searching for a scent, it seemed to turn and face the other way. Sawyer called again, and then the growling began again. This time not directed at Jack.

Before he could react, it was gone, super-wafting towards Sawyer. Jack stared after it, his reverie broken by Sayid's voice.

"Jack, quickly. We must find Sawyer before it does."

They began to run, Jack only stopping for a second to grab the flaming torch.

* * *

Kate reached over and covered Sawyer's mouth. She was trembling, though he didn't know wether it was the fear or the fever. It was too late – she heard it. 

"Lighter!" she hissed at Sawyer. He was standing up now, still holding her. She didn't have the strength to move.

"What?"

"Your lighter! It doesn't like fire."

Sawyer went for his pocket, and came up empty.

"I forgot it!" he said. She made a hissing noise through her teeth. The pain was back, and she could barely see. Everything was hazy. "Well, where's yours?" Sawyer asked.

Kate tried to think. Had she put the lighter back in her pocket? Maybe. She couldn't remember.

"Doesn't matter..." she said woozily. "It's empty."

There was a roar, and suddenly it was in front of them, growing and growling. Kate had a sudden idea.

"My lighter!" she whispered to Sawyer. From where she lay in his arms, she could see his face silhouetted against the dark sky.

"I thought you said it didn't work?" he asked, confused. He took a step backwards as the monster eyed them warily.

"It doesn't know that," Kate replied, her voice dry. Then there was a slight shift in her position – she was unconscious.

Understanding now, Sawyer pulled Kate's almost-worthless lighter out, and held it up high. The monster cried out in frustration, and swished left and right a little, as if wondering whether to come closer.

"Yeah!" Sawyer yelled at it. "What do you think of that?"

Cerberus hovered. Last time the lighter hadn't worked – but fire and pain had come anyway. It was confused.

Sawyer waited tensely. All he knew now was that if the giant attacked, he'd be helpless. Holding Kate, he couldn't even run. But he would do anything to protect her. Stand in its way if he had to.

Cerberus was weighing up its options. Then it decided – and called Sawyer's bluff by rushing forward, screeching.


	8. Chapter 8

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: If you actually believe I would own Lost and then go write Fanfiction, please send me $30.  
Summary: Kate meets the monster in the jungle, and only just survives – but now she's injured, alone, and Cerberus is very, very, mad.  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... though it could get dark. You've been warned.

A/N – This chapter was hard. Really hard. For no apparent reason. So you'd better enjoy it for all the work I put into it. Not as many reviews as usual... if you don't like something, tell me and I will stop future chapter iterating the problem.

**Fantasy Cat:** I'm writing pretty fast for this story. And the chapters are short - somehow it's quicker for me to write two X 800 words, than to write 1500 words. Though I do love you, epecially when you review!

* * *

**Chapter eight**

Sawyer closed his eyes, and pulled his body around Kate's. It was all he could do. There was a feeling of something hovering directly above him, of it coming closer and closer. There was a stinging sensation, and he felt his side explode in pain, as something ripped through the skin there. Waiting for it to attack again, Sawyer held his breath – but there was nothing.

He looked up. The smoke cloud was hovering only a few metres from him, and even though it didn't have a discernable face, he knew somehow that it wasn't looking at him any more. He inched sideways, and saw Jack standing in front of it. The doctor had obviously rushed forward planning on helping, but when Cerberus had swung, hadn't been able to think of anything worth doing.

Sawyer noticed how it wasn't attacking. It was hovering... nervously? Could a giant smoke cloud get nervous? But the way it was standing indicated uncertainty. It certainly wasn't moving forward. The cloud roiled around, twisted and turned, and shrieked so loud Sawyer's ears rung... but it didn't go any closer to Jack, and it seemed reluctant to take its eyes off him.

_The fire!_Sawyer realised. Why Kate had suggested the lighter. Why the monster had hesitated when it had seen it.

"Jack! Use the torch!" he yelled suddenly, and momentarily, Cerberus turned away from Jack to look at Sawyer. _It can hear_, he noted. But Jack had moved, too – more out of confusion than anything, and Cerberus quickly returned its gaze to the greater threat.

"Fire! It's afraid of fire!" Sawyer yelled, and this time Jack got it. He poked the flaming brand towards the cloud, but before he could make contact, Cerberus ran. It shrank, terrified of the feel of flame near it, and then gathered itself into a small floating ball and flew away. As fast as it could.

Even before it was out of sight, Jack was running forward, towards Kate. He saw her closed eyes and blood-spattered body. Now that there was decent light, Sawyer could see that her arms were burned. There were great holes in her clothes and from what Jack could see, it didn't look like she was breathing.

"Is she..." he began, unable to bring himself to ask.

"She's alive," Sawyer reassured him. Nearby, he saw Sayid breathe a sigh of relief. "Just," he added, and Jack immediately took over. He felt her pulse, then studied her face carefully.

"We need to get to the caves," he said. "Somewhere private. She's hurt."

"No shit," Sawyer muttered. He didn't think Jack heard him. He could see Jack wanted to take her, but he stubbornly continued holding her. "Let's go!" he insisted, and Jack moved off. Sawyer followed, and Sayid took the rear, his burning torch stopping the monster coming up behind them unexpectedly.

The trek through the jungle seemed to take only seconds. Jack's sense of direction was pretty good, and he was able to lead them straight to the caves. When he arrived, it was completely empty of people. He still kept most of his remaining medical supplies at the caves, because this was where he did most of the doctoring.

He hastily laid some blankets over the ground, and directed Sawyer to lay her there. For a moment, he couldn't move – had he ever had to heal someone he cared so much about? Someone he did, secretly, love? But then it was as if someone had flipped a switch in his head – he stopped thinking, and went into doctor mode.

He studied her body from the feet up – mainly because he knew the worst injuries were higher up and he was trying to avoid looking at them. Her legs were covered in deep scratches, which could have been made by claws or by a knife-wielding maniac. He found holes in her chest, as if they had been made by one of those digging tools, designed to pull huge cylinders of dirt up. There was no more bleeding from her chest however – somehow, all the wounds had sealed over as if they'd been...

Cauterised. Jack opened his mouth as he studied them. Burned. There were burns all over her chest and arms. Huge ones. And the slashes in her arms had been closed, too. There were minor burns on her face, more as if she'd been out in the sun too long rather than she'd caught alight.

Her shoulder however, was still bleeding. Not as fast or as heavily as it had been a few hours ago, but consistently. Jack peeled away the remains of the bandage, finally identifying the pale yellow colour in amongst the blood. There were only a few tatters of it left, sinking into the wound. A fresh spurt of blood came at him, and he frowned.

There was blood around her mouth – he assumed because she'd been either coughing or vomiting it up. Her hair lay behind her head like a dirty halo. Her breathing was shallow. And there was so much blood... and her fever. That was bad.

Jack looked up to find Sawyer hovering anxiously next to him. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. He looked on helplessly as Sawyer's face crumpled, leaving open a despair and hurt Jack wondered if it was possible to survive. He'd felt broken when Kate had left him for Sawyer. Like she always did. But he hadn't let it show. Had let her bland statement of "let's be friends" wash over him like that was all he wanted.

And now... Jack felt his own resolve crumbling. Silent tears fell. He'd worked miracles before. People had lived and walked because of his 'miracles'. But in that logical part of himself that was always at the fore, Jack knew it would take more than a miracle to save Kate. It would take divine intervention. And even that might not be enough.


	9. Chapter 9

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: If you actually believe I would own Lost and then go write Fanfiction, please send me $30.  
Summary: Kate meets the monster in the jungle, and only just survives – but now she's injured, alone, and Cerberus is very, very, mad.  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... though it could get dark. You've been warned.

A/N – This chapter was random. And basically me writing some stuff that I wish were true for the show. Okay, why did the last chapter only get one review? (Thanks JuliaThorne) And much fewer hits that usual? Please, readers, my attitude towards writing this story depends on you!

* * *

**Chapter nine**

Kate had retreated to the corner of her mind where she felt safest. It was as if she were underwater. Everything was quiet. There was still pain, unbearable pain, but it was muted. She wondered how long she would stay sane if she were to face the full brunt of it. How long would she be able to bear it before she ran again, to unconsciousness?

All she knew was that she'd left the water. Her throat ached, and her mouth tasted like blood. Her disgust had been diminished at the feel of something moving down her throat. Anything, so long as it was wet. Cool would be nice, but she wasn't feeling too picky.

Or maybe she was. Maybe all she wanted to do was imagine... the cool sweetness of fresh water. With ice. Hell, maybe even a cute little umbrella in the top. And if she could have that, why not something else, too? She thought about all the places she'd been in her life. They'd all had their appeal. Which one had she liked the most?

Because she wanted to be there, now. She thought of home, of Iowa. She could hear the cows calling insistently for their evening feed. The ducks on the lake complaining about how cold it was getting. There was the chickens scratching around, looking for any scraps of food or insects they had missed last time they had circled around this part of the house.

There was a single horse on their farm, and it wasn't even theirs. It was a black mare, and she ran whenever anyone approached. She messed up the ground and destroyed the trees, but Kate's mother had long since expected some wild stallion to come and entice her away from their not-too-big property, and so had never bothered to try and get rid of her. Kate loved to catch glimpses of her as she ran, mane and tail flying.

Then a gunshot.

The little girl, nearing her thirteenth birthday and oh-so-excited at the thought of becoming a teenager, had started. The present Kate, the one dying in a far off place that could never, ever, feel anything like 'home' to her, winced at the sound. She knew what it meant. What it was. She wanted to wake up, and struck out, hoping to find her life back how it had been.

But as she rose away from the dream, towards consciousness, she felt the pain. Everywhere now. There wasn't a single spot that didn't sting or burn or scream or beg for deliverance.

She hesitated, not wanting to go back into the beautiful dream that had so suddenly changed into a nightmare, but not wanting to face the real world. Then the choice was taken away from her, and she was sinking.

Ma's new boyfriend. A drunk cowboy who loved to wave his gun and take pot shots at the possums.

Who had seen what that rogue mare was doing to the farm and taken matters into his own hands. He was nowhere near the horse. But close enough to aim and fire.

Kate hadn't even seen him, watching coldly from the ridge. She'd been intent on watching the horse, watching the beautiful black mare (the one she thought of as 'Midnight') run free.

A gunshot. The mare kept running – and then one leg folded. She had fallen, and hit the ground dead. Kate's scream of protest had lasted beyond the echo of the shot.

That was enough, adult Kate thought. No point in going back there. No way she would think about the things that had happened after that. The things that had slowly led her...

Here.

Here to a burning pain and a raging thirst, a blissful sensation of dying and a desperation to live. For a moment, she imagined the water once more. How beautiful it would be. _I want to die_, she thought. She'd never thought that before, but now she meant it. She could escape, one last time. _I could die now, but I want some water first_.

And then it came. Drops of cool moisture. She was lying on her back, she realised. It didn't seem odd for a few moments until she remembered she had last felt herself on her stomach. Weeping over her own stupidity.

She didn't question it, because then there was water, slick, wet water coming easily down her throat. She was so desperate, she wasn't even aware of swallowing. She wondered if it was a dream – a beautiful pain induced hallucination. If it was, she didn't want it to stop. The water kept coming.

And then it stopped. It took her a moment to realise this, but once she did, she tried to sit up, to find it again. The movement set off the pain, and within seconds, she was unconscious again.


	10. Chapter 10

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: How many times do I need to say it? I don't own Lost. By making me write this every chapter, you're just rubbing it in.  
Summary: Kate meets the monster in the jungle, and only just survives – but now she's injured, alone, and Cerberus is very, very, mad.  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... though it could get dark. You've been warned.

A/N – This is where I decided how I could make this fic darker. Because, honestly, that's what it was supposed to be all along. I've actually been making this up as I go along, but this turned out... well, just go read it.

What happened to all my beautiful reviewers? I hesitated putting this chapter up because I thought there might be more...

* * *

**Chapter ten**

Jack thought for a moment she might have woken up. He was dripping the water in slowly, and he thought he saw her eyelids flicker, but he must have imagined it because when he pulled the water bottle away from her lips, there was a twitch and then stillness.

He had, despite his own diagnosis, stitched up the big cuts, and bandaged her chest and legs. He needed to do something. He couldn't just watch her die. He thought that maybe, it was possible she would have lived if it were just her injuries. They were all external. But her fever was running so high he almost burned his hand touching her skin. His only explanation was that the monster had somehow injected some kind of poison into her system.

Sawyer was sitting on the ground by her side. He was holding one limp hand in both of his, and staring blankly into space. It was a grief too great for words. Jack felt the same, but he didn't try to offer any comfort. There was none.

Sayid was still there. He was guarding the entrance to the caves, having considered the possibility that the monster would come back. Very suddenly, it seemed to have a grudge against Kate.

* * *

Kate felt herself falling. It wasn't like drifting into unconsciousness, or like sleeping. It was as if she'd jumped off a cliff. There was a rushing sound in her ears, and she could feel her hair flapping wildly. She felt like herself – she could feel her arms and legs, and could probably move them if she tried.

Was she dying? she wondered. She guessed so. There wasn't any bright white light, though. Just the roaring darkness. _Well, what did you expect? _she asked herself. _Pearly white gates?_

She gradually became aware of someone watching her.

"Who's there?" she yelled. Whispering. The back of her neck prickled, and she turned. There was no actual motion – but suddenly she was facing around. Darkness, nothing but darkness on all sides.

"Where am I?" she tried this time. The whispering around her grew louder, and she could make out individual words now.

_Woman-girl... hurting-dying... save her/should we save her?_

"Who are you?" Kate said again, her heart thudding painfully against her chest.

_Talking-yelling... loud... we could save her..._

"Help me!" she cried. The whispering grew more intense, and a few times, she thought they were speaking English, but then they would grow more indistinct and less human.

Somewhere far off, her body jerked as her temperature raised again, and her teeth started chattering. Jack had been right – it was a poison. It was running through her veins and shutting down her systems one by one.

Kate didn't notice. She wondered what she was standing on, because even though it felt as if she were falling, she wasn't moving.

"Stop it!"

Her scream went unanswered. The whispers continued.

"Either help me or going away," Kate said, her voice weakening with her body. There was a light now – but it wasn't bright white, nor did it she think she should go anywhere near it.

It was a crimson light – it shone out of the blackness, and it looked like luminescent blood. Kate shrank away from it, realising with horror it was growing bigger. And coming closer. She shrieked and tried to run from it, but like a flame hitting a ring of oil, it surged out in front of her and around, trapping her.

"Is anyone there? Please, God, if anyone's there, please help..."

She couldn't move. She couldn't back away. She couldn't escape the spreading light, which was definitely not there to help her. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, and she sobbed heavily. Ever since arriving in this place of darkness and fear, she'd known that Death was following. There had been no pain, and she felt oddly distant from herself.

The whispers started again. _It's here! Run... it's here... it's here... save her! No! Leave her to die... save her..._

"I know you're there!" Kate called to the voices around her. "If you're there you have to help me."

_Are you afraid? Afraid of me, Katie?_ This time she thought it was the crimson light that spoke. As if she didn't know what it really was.

"Yes!" she screamed. "I'm afraid. God help me, I'm scared..."

_Do you want to come now?_

"No! Go away!"

_It's too late Katie. You have to. You don't have a choice – few people do. The fear will pass. It doesn't have to be like this._

It was inviting her forward, into that spreading, crimson mist. She knew that if she resisted, it would take her anyway. But the fear was so intense, she couldn't move. She wouldn't move. She wouldn't give in to it.

_It will only hurt if you fight __me_

"Leave me alone, let me go!"

_Can't do that, Katie._

"Stop calling me that!"

_You don't recognise me?_

And Kate recognised the voice – had known who it was ever since he had called her Katie. But she knew it couldn't be real. He wasn't real.

_I'm real. Come with me, Katie. It won't hurt if you come..._

"NO!"

Then another voice joined Tom's. She shrank back, and now she could feel herself shaking. It was here to take her, so why couldn't it just do it? Because she couldn't, just couldn't go forward.

_Don't run, Kate._

_Help her, should we help her? She fights, she's strong, lovely..._

"Just do it," she whispered, tasting her own tears which were freefalling down her cheeks to disappear into the blackness that may or may not have been the ground. She felt another choking sob shake her. "Just end it, then."

She knew there was no escape, so why couldn't it just finish its game and stop taunting her?

_I'm not taunting you, Katie. I'm giving you a chance. Because it'll only hurt if you fight me._

Even Kate had to admit how much simpler it would be to give in, to walk forward... but the colour! Like blood spatters on the floor, glowing in the night. The very essence of it was fear and pain.

_I can hurt you, Katie, I will make it hurt. Just come..._

_Don't go!_ A different voice, this time. The whispers. She hesitated, and turned towards the sound. The crimson mist glittered angrily, and started inching in towards her.

_Last chance, Katie_

_We could help you/save you!_ they offered.

"Please, please help me," she begged.

_Do you trust us?_

The mist came closer. She had barely a second before it would touch her.

"Yes! I trust you!"

_Will you do what we ask? Anything/anything that we ask?_

"Yes! Help me, and yes, I promise I'll do anything!"


	11. Chapter 11

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: How many times do I need to say it? I don't own Lost. By making me write this every chapter, you're just rubbing it in.  
Summary: Kate meets the monster in the jungle, and only just survives – but now she's injured, alone, and Cerberus is very, very, mad.  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... though it could get dark. You've been warned.

A/N – Some fluff to lighten the mood. Probably some of the lamest Jate ever, but, well, I AM a Skater. It's also an abominably short chapter, but I couldn't see myself fitting the next part of the story in here. So if you're all nice and I get reviews, I'll put the next chapter up soon.

* * *

**Chapter eleven**

Jack felt his head dipping towards his chest and shook the feeling away. He was so tired, but if Kate was going to die he wasn't going to fall asleep and make her go alone. There was also a fear, one that he'd always fought.

He knew that if he did fall asleep, when next he woke, she would be dead. And the idea of finding her gone, of not being there, was hideous. He had to be there. He had to try.

To keep himself awake, he walked stiffly over to the waterfall and washed his face. He glanced back forlornly. He wondered whether Sawyer was asleep. He was still by her side, but his head had drooped and his eyes were shut.

Jack sighed, and was about to sit down again, when he saw Kate twitch again. He went closer. Cautiously, he reached his hand to her forehead, and gasped. She was sweating profusely. Her skin felt cool. The fever had broken.

Jack sat down. It was the only motion he could manage. He stared for a full minute, disbelieving. It was a trick, wasn't it? His mind was playing with him. An illusion. Barely breathing, he reached forward, and felt her wrist.

A steady pulse. Beating slowly and rhythmically. Perfectly.

Something inside Jack changed. A miracle. More than that – divine intervention. He felt his throat closing, and had to gasp to get enough air.

Then, as if she'd been merely sleeping, her eyes opened. So clear, and beautiful, Jack couldn't hide the tears this time.

"Jack," she said, her voice filled with wonder.

"You're alive," he said, trying to somehow explain his emotional reaction.

"Really?" she asked, seemingly as confused as he was. He saw a deep fear lurking in her eyes, and squeezed her hand gently.

"Yeah. Welcome back."

She shivered. He leaned forward, concerned, and she gave him a small smile. Jack smiled back, his eyes crinkling.

Just then, Sawyer woke, looking up. For a moment, he stared at Kate's smile and bright eyes, then he leaned forward and kissed her. Jack swallowed, and stood up to give them some privacy. They would have a lot to talk about.


	12. Chapter 12

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: How many times do I need to say it? I don't own Lost. By making me write this every chapter, you're just rubbing it in.  
Summary: Kate meets the monster in the jungle, and only just survives – but now she's injured, alone, and Cerberus is very, very, mad.  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... though it could get dark. You've been warned.

A/N – Okay, I don't want to be chasing after people cause they haven't handed in their notes... I mean, reviewed. But seriously. One review? (Thanks JuliaThorne **:- **) Okay, sure, it was short. So, seeing as this is a nice long chapter, does that mean you'll all be nice and review? Please? Or I'll set the monster on you! -glare-

* * *

**Chapter twelve**

Two weeks passed, neither quickly nor slowly, neither easily nor painfully. Kate felt herself needing to be alone, but Jack insisted she stay and rest at the caves for a few days, rebuild her strength. What she hadn't told him, what she was actually _scared_to tell him, was that she felt fine. The wounds all over her body were healing cleanly, and very quickly, but she knew she should be feeling more than this.

_Will __you do anything?_

Kate didn't stop to think about that dream. It had only been a dream, a simple nightmare that could be easily explained through her weak state and her psychological condition.

But she was still too scared to think about it. Scared to think it may have been real.

Because, of course, it wasn't. Couldn't be. And it was just luck that she didn't have to deal with the usual after-injury cramps and numbness. Jack said she was lucky to still be able to walk, considering what her legs had looked like.

So she would relent to Jack's persistent fussing and Sawyer's worried glances, and everyone else's sympathetic, though slightly horrified, inquiries.

_Yes, I'll do anything_.

The voices in her head, some of them hers, most not, came around frequently. Just checking. Checking that she would do what they asked her. Once she had dared to question _when_, and hadn't been replied.

As well as wanting some peace and quiet (though she could never get any, thanks to the voices in her head that kept repeating things from her dreams), she often found herself laying two fingers against her throat, listening to the pulse beating beneath them. Sometimes, she thought Jack might have seen her doing it, and she would quickly pass the movement off as though she were just brushing a bit of hair away. He didn't comment – she knew he understood.

There was one other thing that changed. Kate wasn't sure how many people had noticed, because she did her very best to hide it. She knew living on a deserted (sort of) island was hard, and that the most interesting part of the day was gossip, but she didn't want that gossip to be about her.

Or about the fear that lay coiled within, rising up at unexpected moments and causing her to stop speaking in the middle of a sentence, or drop something she was holding, or just run – whatever direction, as fast as she could.

Jack was down on the beach, talking to Sun about her developing pregnancy. Kate watched from a distance. She had never really thought about what would have happened if she'd been pregnant when she'd been attacked. But she never had been – it was odd. She refused to let herself think on it. It wasn't exactly important.

"You keeping your fluids up?" a voice asked, and Kate glanced up, surprised. Jack was smiling at her.

"Yep," she replied. She didn't know if she was. She never felt thirsty, never felt hungry. She really only ate because Jack was always checking on her and suggesting that she should.

Jack was obviously in no hurry, because he sat down and watched the surf crashing down for a few moments with her.

"Can I ask you something, Kate?"

She felt her stomach knot. Of course he'd noticed.

"Sure," she said, her mouth dry. Jack stared at the side of her head until she turned to meet his gaze – a much harder task than one would think.

"If you're scared, then couldn't you just say so?" he asked after a pause. She swallowed.

"Why would you think that, Jack?" she asked. He frowned disapprovingly, and once more she looked away.

"You haven't been into the jungle since..."

"I have too! I was picking mangoes yesterday," Kate retorted.

"With Sawyer," Jack pointed out. Kate raised an eyebrow.

"What's that supposed to mean? He and I are kind of... together. Why shouldn't I pick fruit with him?"

"You've never done that before," he said.

"There's a first time for everything," she replied. Then, sick of the conversation, she stood. Jack followed suit, gently taking hold of her arm.

"That's what I'm talking about. There's nothing wrong with being afraid. Just tell me... and I can help."

"Help? How?" she asked sarcastically. Jack paused, looking around for a moment before returning his gaze to her and letting her arm drop.

"Just... trust me? Please? You don't have to be alone."

"Maybe I want to be," Kate muttered, then instantly regretted it. Jack's expression of concern deepened.

She did want to be alone – and then the fear came. It wasn't focused on anything specifically, but one minute she was looking at Jack, trying to think of how to end the conversation, the next there mind was assaulted with a terror so intense and deep she had to fight from screaming.

"I gotta go," she said hurriedly, and turned. Jack called her name, once, twice, and then let her leave. She headed straight to the jungle – because right now, it didn't matter where she was, the fear would be just as terrible. Except, in the jungle she could run away and no-one would know. She could cry and no-one would try and comfort her.

She hit the tree line and as soon as the beach was out of sight she took off. She ran as if the devil was on her heels – and with a shock she remembered the sickening crimson mist that had come for her, that had tried to take her. Death followed her now. It wanted her, because she had escaped it.

So she ran until her sides were heaving, and from the tightness in her side she knew she had a cramp – but she couldn't feel it. She kept running. Mid-step, she coughed, and there was a taste of blood in her mouth. Then a tree root tripped her, and she lay for a moment. She could barely breathe. Her lungs must be starved. Her muscles should have been killing her. Her wrist, where she had landed on it, looked sprained.

Breathing heavily, Kate finally had to admit it was true – there was no pain. Discomfort, yes, and the sensation that it _should_ hurt (which was confusing enough to almost hurt), but there was no pain.

Gingerly, she probed her wrist with her fingers. It was swelling fast. In any other circumstances, she could imagine herself hissing with pain as she breathed in, or gritting her teeth and stopping the groan from escaping. But right now, even though she could feel her wrist with her left hand, and her right arm could feel her fingers – it didn't hurt.

Staring at the injury, her only real problem lay with, _how the hell am I supposed to tell Jack about this?_


	13. Chapter 13

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: How many times do I need to say it? I don't own Lost. By making me write this every chapter, you're just rubbing it in.  
Summary: Kate meets the monster in the jungle, and only just survives – but now she's injured, alone, and Cerberus is very, very, mad.  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... though it could get dark. You've been warned.

A/N – Well, the reviewing improved. A little. Thanks everyone! But what happened to those guys who reviewed the first few chapters... I think some of them have disappeared.

BTW, soon (several chapters away) there will be character deaths. And there's a chapter dedication to whoever can guess who will be first to die...

* * *

**Chapter thirteen**

"I tripped," Kate repeated. Jack raised an eyebrow, but continued bandaging her wrist. She had made sure to look uncomfortable when he had touched it, trying to work out how bad it was.

"See, when you go running off into the jungle..." he trailed off, not needing to say anymore. Unfortunately, Kate knew there wasn't any way of sticking up for herself here, short of lying. Neither of them said anything. He finished the bandaging, and stuck a piece of tape across it.

"Okay, we'll go for a new record – how long can Kate go without injuring herself?" he joked. She smiled wryly.

"A little longer, I think," she replied.

"Mmm... otherwise I'll run out of bandages."

"What will you do then?" Kate asked seriously. Jack sighed.

"I've been thinking about that. I could probably get some old clothes that can't be worn for whatever reason, use them... I'll ask Sun later if there's a way of making something that will work out of... I dunno, some sort of plant."

Kate didn't say anything. She was looking out beyond the walls of the cave, her mind roaming absently.

_Will you do anything?_ the voices asked. She couldn't tell whether it was a memory, or if they were checking up on her.

_Yes. I'll do anything._ Her own voice echoed in her mind. It could have been an answer. She shivered. Jack looked over.

"You okay?" he checked. She nodded.

"Yeah, fine." He sighed.

"Look, Kate..."

"Don't, Jack," she said sharply. He gazed at her helplessly for a few seconds. "I don't want to talk, not now."

"When?" he persisted.

"Just... not."

He bit his lip, but nodded. Kate tried to think of something to say, to break the awkward moment, when another voice came towards them.

"Well, looky here. All the time you two spend together... I might get suspicious."

Kate rolled her eyes. Well, at least it was a distraction.

"Hey Sawyer," she said. Jack nodded at him, a diplomatic welcome if nothing else.

"I'm heading back to the beach," he said. "Someone will have gotten into a fight or stepped on a sea-urchin..."

"Wait a sec, I'm coming," Kate said, looking questioningly at Sawyer. He smiled broadly.

"The princess need a whole entourage to get to the beach now?" he asked. For a moment, Kate wondered uneasily whether he, too, had noticed her desire not to walk through the jungle alone, but then figured it was just the Sawyer thing to say. Jack, she noticed, gave her a long look, but didn't say anything.

On the walk, Kate tried hard not to start at every bird in the trees or rabbit in the bushes. At one point, she was sure there was a hand resting on her shoulder. She stifled a gasp, and turned her head slightly. For a moment, she was sure she could see something, hovering, waiting...

"Checking up on me, Freckles?" Sawyer asked. He'd thought she was turning to look at him.

"Someone needs to do it," she replied dryly. Her eyes reset, now staring at Jack's back again as he walked stoically through the jungle. She usually tried to avoid flirting with Sawyer when Jack was around. Jack usually tried to avoid Sawyer.

_Ne__i__ther of them __have you. Not really._

"Shut up," Kate whispered under her breathe, then glanced up to make sure no-one had heard her. That would be real smooth – scared of the jungle and talking to herself.

_We own you. Ours/ours/ours..._

Kate ignored the voices. It could almost be a single voice, but it... wasn't. There were many personalities in there, but they spoke in perfect unison, perfectly in time.

_Will__ you tell them? Will you tell them what we agreed? Of course not..._

_There was no deal_, Kate hissed mentally. _You don't exist. You're nothing._

_We're something. You're something – you're ours._

Kate gritted her teeth and kept walking. Whatever they said, she wouldn't listen to them. It was her subconscious, her mind trying to make her feel guilty about the crazy dreams she'd had.

_But you know, don't you. Really, you _do_ know!_

_No I don't._

_Yes. And soon, they will die, and you will be alone... and ours..._


	14. Chapter 14

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: Lost no longer belongs to JJ Abrams and crew. It was recently stolen by... the Others! And I'm not one of them, so I still don't own Lost.  
Summary: After an encounter with Cerberus leaves Kate injured and alone, she makes a deal with something she really shouldn't...  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... it is now getting darker, and (many) character deaths are guaranteed.

**A/N** – Some Skate fluff. Probably not very good quality, because this chapter is pissing me off, seeing as how I've now written it twice, the first time accidentally deleting it. Grr! (The first time it was much better, so apologies.)

Hello, reviewers? You all left again! If you don't like the chapter, tell me and I'll avoid doing that in future. If you do like it, tell me and I won't fall into a black pit of despair... There's still a chapter dedication up for whoever can guess who will be the first to die. (Or if you can think of a better 'prize', whatever, tell me that, too.)

**4-8-15-JuliaThorne-16-23-42** – Nice guess, but you have to choose one... bit like Kate, really.

* * *

**Chapter fourteen**

There were no more bullets on the island. And yet, for some reason, Sawyer still carried the shell of a gun with him wherever he went. Kate didn't tease him about it. She preferred not to look at it. Because whenever she saw that gun, she felt sick, and couldn't explain why. Today was no exception; he had it tucked into the back of his jeans, but when he'd asked her to come with him for a walk, a familiar glint in his eye, she had forced herself to not look at it.

"Where are we going?" Kate asked an hour later. Sawyer turned to her, grinning and looking smug at the same time, if it's possible for those two expressions to be combined.

"Wait and see," he said. It was the fourth time she'd asked, and the fourth time he'd given her that exact same answer. She rolled her eyes.

"We're a long way from camp," she commented, struggling not to let the fear show itself her voice.

"It's not much further," Sawyer promised.

"Sure you're not lost?" Kate asked, smiling. He glanced at her, pretending to be offended.

"I haven't gotten lost out here for months!"

"I still remember last time," Kate teased. He looked away quickly, and she couldn't resist adding, "At least we didn't have to go far to find you."

"Well everything looks different at night!" he protested.

"Even when you're five minutes from the caves?"

"Coming from the girl who can't manage a walk in the jungle without hurting herself somehow," Sawyer muttered, and Kate flinched slightly, covering it up by kicking a rock out of the way. Suddenly, he looked up, and Kate came up alongside him.

"What?" she asked, and he grinned, pointing ahead. All Kate could see was a drop, where the ground suddenly disappeared. It looked like a cliff face.

"Go on, have a look," he encouraged. Curious, she stepped forward, and looked down. Not too far below her was a large pool of water. Incredulous, she looked back at Sawyer.

"How deep is it?" she asked. He smiled.

"I'll show you," he said, and began stripping down. His satisfaction at the discovery spreading, Kate followed suit. Before she could ask how to get down, he'd jumped – anxious, she looked down, waiting for him to come up.

"What you waiting for Freckles?" he called, bursting out of the water. A smile steadily growing across her face, she leapt in after him. He ducked out of the way, and when she came up laughing, he splashed her threateningly.

"The idea was you jump in... when I'm not underneath you," he growled.

"Big baby!" Kate scolded. "You're fine."

For the next hour they played in the water, their light hearted banter and splashing soon turning into passion. Kate found a much needed release from the memories of the last month, and Sawyer found himself reliving his relief that she was still alive.

Climbing out, their extremities turning numb and their hearts and souls feeling warmed, Kate couldn't help but notice as Sawyer shoved the gun back into his jeans. For a moment, she wondered if she was going to be sick, but swallowed heavily, and began leading the way back.

* * *

He was slightly ahead and to the side of her when it happened. There was a minute, barely detectable click, and then a faint whoosh – and then Kate looked up to find Sawyer jumping towards her, panic written across his features.

"Kate!" he yelled in her face, and for a moment, she was too stunned to move. Then, clarity returning, she reached a hand towards his face.

"What?" she asked, still confused. The urgency in his eyes died away, and he looked around. Kate followed his gaze, until she noticed an arrow sticking into the ground behind her.

"One of Rousseau's old traps," he muttered. "I thought..."

"I'm okay," Kate reassured him. "It missed me. Though I thought she'd taken all these away..."

"Must have missed one," Sawyer said grimly, meeting her eyes for a moment. She was shocked by the guilt she saw there, and the tenderness.

"I couldn't lose you," he whispered, stepping forward. She smiled softly, and felt her love for him, initially so unexpected and then so uncontrollable, intensify. "I shouldn't have brought you out here," he said suddenly. "It was a stupid idea."

"No, Sawyer..." Kate protested. "It was a brilliant idea. I'm fine. And I want to come back sometime," she added, a wicked glint in her eyes. Nodding, Sawyer took her hand as he lead the way back to camp.

Relieved he was no longer looking at her, Kate subtly used her free hand to feel underneath her shirt. She gasped silently as her fingers brushed past a thick round hole, passing right through her gut.


	15. Chapter 15

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: Lost no longer belongs to JJ Abrams and crew. It was recently stolen by... the Others! And I'm not one of them, so I still don't own Lost.  
Summary: After an encounter with Cerberus leaves Kate injured and alone, she makes a deal with something she really shouldn't...  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... it is now getting darker, and (many) character deaths are guaranteed.

A/N – Something's going to happen soon! Yay, I can't wait to write it! And big thanks to all my reviewers, though it's kind of haphazard which chapters are getting them. Keep it up, please!

If this chapter freaks you out... good. That's how evil I am. And you get some answers - Lost style! Aka, not really.

* * *

**Chapter fifteen**

Kate went straight to her tent, telling Sawyer she was tired. Once inside, she secured the flap with a cord she had designed to stop people bursting in unannounced. Fingers trembling, she pulled her shirt off.

And felt silent tears begin to trace their way down her cheeks. _What is wrong with me?_ she thought desperately._ What the _fuck_ is wrong with me?_

There was a hole in her gut, about the size of a nectarine. It wasn't bleeding, because it was already sealing shut. She could almost see the skin regrowing before her eyes. Almost.

And she felt nothing. Tentatively, she brushed the wound with one finger, and then impatiently stabbed it in. A few drops of blood stuck to her hand, but she still felt nothing.

_This can't be happening. Why is it happening?_

_Because you're useless if you're weak. Useless if you submit to the frailties of human life.__ Submit to pain._

Kate's head snapped up and she looked around her warily. She was going crazy. She could tell this from either (what must be...) an imaginary arrow-wound in her stomach, or the voices in her head.

She wanted to tell Jack. But

_You'll never tell him._

she knew she never would. He'd believe her. He'd reassure her she wasn't insane, but that something very weird (_the sort of __some__thin__g__ that happen__s_ here) was going on and she was perfectly fine. He'd be by her side.

And that was precisely the problem. She'd rather think she was crazy that admit to what was happening to her. She choked back a few tears, reminding herself she wouldn't be helping anyone, especially not herself, if she were crying.

She fumbled for a second, looking for the knife she kept in one corner of her tent. Fingers shaking, she rested the blade against the inside of her arm, and, terrified, pressed down. There was no pain to convince her this was a bad idea, and she kept pushing. Then suddenly she stopped at the sight of crimson blood spilling out, and pulled the knife back.

A knife, a cut, and blood. But she couldn't feel it. It wasn't as if it were numb – when numb, you know that there is pain but you don't respond to it. Now, there truly was nothing. And the instant she had taken the knife away, the cut had started to heal over, and now all that remained was a thick pink scar.

_Our gift!_ the voices chimed in, and Kate pulled herself away from them.

"I don't want it!" she hissed at them.

_You will. What is life worth if it is full of pain?_

Kate couldn't reply. She could only think of her childhood, and memories of Wayne coming towards her, that look in his eye – and then her own thoughts, her own troubled screams as she wished the pain would go away.

_You see? She does understand. She will be ours._

"What does that mean? Yours?" Kate whispered, scared to know the answer. The truth was always so much more painful than lies, even when you could tell the difference.

_You will live._

Kate came very close to laughing at that. Of course, why would they tell her? But then, if these voices (even _existed_) really had saved her life, she had promised them. And she did owe them.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked. She knew they wanted her to do something.

_We want you to kill them._

"What?" Kate yelped, then quickly covered her mouth with her hands. Even if she was crazy, she didn't need everyone else knowing. "Who?" she asked more quietly.

_All of them. But not yet. The time will come._

"What if I say no?" she asked cautiously. Her head immediately ached, as the voices did something she thought might be close to laughter.

_You won't._

* * *

Kate kept to herself all the next day. She only saw Jack once, and from how the conversation went, she wished she hadn't. He had seen her wrist, and the faded scar on the skin there. He knew very well that it hadn't been there a few days ago, when she'd sprained said wrist.

"What happened here?" he asked. He could see what had caused it – the cut was too perfect, too straight, to be from anything other than a knife – but for now, he was giving her a chance to tell him the truth (or a chance to lie to him).

"Scratched it on a tree," Kate replied lightly, momentarily meeting his eyes. Lying to him was hard, but she would rather lie than tell him what was really happening to her.

* * *

Kate felt herself growing antsy. She'd been sitting still to much lately. Lying too much, hiding too much. Taking a deep breath, she headed into the jungle.

Once inside the shade of the trees, she felt slightly more relaxed, her blood pumping and her arms swinging loosely by her sides. She wandered absently, not heading for anything nor away from anything. Though maybe away from someone. The look Jack had given her earlier rang of betrayal and hurt, but she hadn't let herself feel sorry for him.

She walked for a while, with the purposeful stride she seemed to have lost since her recovery. She let herself fall into the old habit, relaxing more with each stride. Maybe it was because she was so comfortable she didn't notice the sounds around her suddenly stop. The birds were no longer chirping. The trees had stopped rustling. The air was still.

And with a sudden roar the monster came from her left. There was an impact on her side and she felt the wind knocked out of her – she felt herself thinking, _thank God it doesn't hurt_.

It hovered above her for a few seconds, and she felt her mind go blank. She couldn't force herself to reach for her lighter, or run, or scream. That familiar fear was coming back in waves, each successive one trapping her so that she couldn't even _breathe_...

And then they came. The whispers, from all around. The monster was listening to them, at least she thought it was. They were the same voices she could hear in her head on an almost daily basis, but this time they were in the jungle.

_Leave her Cerberus. She's our__s__ now._

Kate felt her muscles slowly unfreezing. Her heart beating so fast she thought it might pop at any second, she sucked in a huge breath, jumped to her feet and ran. Behind her, she heard Cerberus roar its frustration. It wanted to chase her, tear her apart, but the mysterious voices had forbidden it.

And the voices... As she ran towards camp, weakened muscles already protesting, she could hear them laughing.


	16. Chapter 16

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: Lost no longer belongs to JJ Abrams and crew. It was recently stolen by... the Others! And I'm not one of them, so I still don't own Lost.  
Summary: After an encounter with Cerberus leaves Kate injured and alone, she makes a deal with something she really shouldn't...  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... it is now getting darker, and (many) character deaths are guaranteed.

A/N – Not many reviews... aww... what, was the chapter boring? Okay, here's something interesting.

* * *

**Chapter sixteen**

Sawyer still had the fucking gun tucked into his pants. When she'd woken a few mornings after her latest encounter with Cerberus, Kate had been delighted by Sawyer's invitation to a swim. She just hadn't counted on him bringing the damn gun, the one that never worked because it had no bullets in it.

The 'wound' in her stomach was fading slowly. There was still a dark red patch, rough to the touch, and there were bruises on her side from when the monster had knocked her sideways. She had, however, decided it didn't matter what she did, she couldn't get hurt and probably couldn't die. She had gradually admitted to herself and then accepted that the whispering voices in her head were real, and that the deal they had made was real.

She didn't know what they wanted from her. What they had told her wasn't an answer and wasn't worth thinking about. So she decided to just let it rest for a while, and enjoy another day out with Sawyer. After all, they'd been dealing with weirdness on the island ever since the crash. She should be used to it by now.

The walk there seemed to be much shorter today – possibly because she wasn't so intensely curious, and was able to relax further. Arriving at the pool, they climbed down the rocks so that they could wade in slowly, grinning at each other as they slipped over wet stones. The water was still and glassy, the mirror perfect image shattered as Sawyer dived in. Not keen on him seeing the red patch on her stomach and asking questions, Kate slipped in unobtrusively while he was still underwater, hiding her stomach.

He didn't come up. Her laughter fading to bemusement, and then to anxiety, Kate looked around her. The water around her was rippling slightly, but everywhere else was still.

"Sawyer?" she called. Surely he couldn't have stayed under this long? There was a movement behind her, and she started to turn, when something grabbed her ankle and pulled her under. She shrieked instinctively, and her mouth filled with water.

The pressure on her foot vanished, and she fought her way to the surface, choking and spluttering. Sawyer rose behind her, laughing furiously. Still spluttering, Kate turned around and did her best to thump him. She was laughing too hard to hit with any accuracy, however.

Then something strange happened. Her arms were moving of their own accord – Kate wasn't telling them to move, but move they did. She watched, confused, as all the sound around her faded away. The smile was still plastered to her face but it had deepened into something sinister.

She was right next to him, and with a strength she shouldn't have had, she pushed him under. He let himself sink, not realising anything was wrong with his game. After a moment, he tried to rise to the surface, but her arms were still crossed over his head and he wasn't able to push them out of the way.

In fact, he couldn't move. He knew she wasn't this strong. She couldn't be. So how could she hold him? Not quite scared and not quite angry, not yet, Sawyer felt his lungs burning. _Time's up, Freckles,_ he thought. He pushed more insistently, and still she weighed him down. Knowing he couldn't go up, he sank down further, and swam around her, bursting up into beautiful clear air.

He sucked in several desperate lungfuls, then turned angrily to Kate. All his protests were forgotten when he saw that look in her eye – the hungry one. Trying to accept a joke, Sawyer pulled her towards him.

"You trying to kill me now?" he whispered into her hair.

"Maybe," she replied, her voice thick with lust. He ran his hands down her smooth skin, slick with water, and let his head tilt backwards as she nibbled his neck.

His hands were roaming freely, and so were hers – the beauty of his plan to go swimming naked. He refamiliarised himself with every curve she possessed, every scar; these no longer sickened him, and they were constantly used to remind him of how much he loved her, what he would do for her. His fingers followed the curve around her hips to brush past her stomach.

And he stopped.

Kate had let herself lose herself to him, forcing the episode of a few minutes ago out of her mind. She told herself that her broken perceptions of the world had been the result of her bad sleeping pattern lately. She hadn't been any stronger – he had just enjoyed the role playing and hadn't fought as hard as he could. That was all.

She felt his fingers, could feel the water they balanced in, and let herself relax. Until he stiffened beside her.

"What?" she asked huskily. He didn't reply, and she put her arms around his shoulders, bringing his head down so that he had to meet her eyes. "What?" she repeated, her ardour dying, confused by the shock in his brilliant blue eyes, so passionate and alive she thought she could drown in them.

"Kate..." he whispered. Suddenly she realised. She couldn't feel it, there was nothing to feel – but his fingers were resting on the red scab on her stomach. And in that flash of realisation, her eyes betrayed her guilt.

"What happened?" he asked, his throat dry.

"Nothing happened," she tried to reassure him, but her hands were shaking, and she was trembling all over. She prayed he didn't notice. "I'm fine."

"You've said that too many times lately," he accused. "And you are clearly not fine..."

The shock was still stopping him from thinking. Kate knew this was her only chance to lie to him, while he was still open to suggestions.

"It's just a scratch. Nothing dangerous. I can't even feel it," she said, inwardly wincing at the truth of her last comment.

"Nothing, huh?" he asked, the fire snapping back into him with a suddency that scared her. He finally broke the intense eye contact, and climbed out of the water, flinging his clothes back on, not looking at her. She took her chance to climb out and get dressed.

"Sawyer," she said quietly, pleadingly, as he grabbed his bag, as if to head back to camp. He hesitated, and turned to her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, the pain in his voice so real she might have been able to touch it.

"Because... I was scared. You have no idea what I've been through, what I've been thinking. I didn't know what you'd say if I told you..."

"Told me what?"

And in that instant, Kate knew she was going to tell him everything. Her 'dreams', which were obviously more than that, the fear, the lack of feeling.

_Do not tell him,_ the voices said unexpectedly. It was a command, and Kate paused. _Tell him and he dies._

_I'll keep him safe_, Kate promised herself, then to the voices she added,_ I won't let you near him._

_We won't touch him_, they replied mockingly, and something in that should have warned her but she wasn't listening.

"I... I did something, Sawyer," she whispered, her voice breaking. Confused now, his anger fading as quickly as it had risen, Sawyer took her hand and pulled them both down to sit on a log. "I... it was dark and there was... someone... there, and he wanted to kill me! And I was so scared I didn't have any other choice and I did what they told me to, but now..."

"Kate?" Sawyer asked uncertainly, after a pause. She could practically read his thoughts.

_She's gone nuts. No, get her to Jack. __Jack'll__ know what to do._

"I can't go to Jack!" she cried instantly. He started, looking about himself nervously.

"Okay, okay, Freckles, whatever you want... we can do that. Whatever's going on, tell me and I'll..."

"You can't help," Kate said quietly. A heartbeat of time passed before he registered something wrong with her voice. It was hard and compelling. He was no longer just scared for her – he was steadily becoming scared of her.

"I can try," he said, doing his best to sound normal.

_Get away, get away from her! She'll hurt you, James, she will... she's like a caged animal, and if you try and let her out she'll bite and scratch._

Kate stared at Sawyer in astonishment. Surely not. It couldn't be. Just... couldn't.

_Give her a little space, she'll work out what'__s going on._

He wasn't thinking that. She could NOT read thoughts. That would be too... she couldn't express the complete insanity, her utter horror concerning the changes occurring within her.

And then he stood up. Maybe she would have been able to resist if he'd tried to support her, if he had just tried to believe her. But he stood up, just like that, ready to leave her.

_Kill him_, the voices instructed, and for the second time Kate found herself in no control of her body. She doesn't remember reaching out towards him, or his expression as he thinks she wants him to come back. She doesn't remember that there are no bullets in that gun, because it doesn't matter.

All she remembers is their instruction to kill him, and then she is holding that gun and pointing it right in his face.

It hasn't worked for months. Even if there were bullets, Sawyer has long since suspected something is wrong with the firing pin. But when she pulls that trigger and feels the metal jump inside her hand, when she hears the deafening crack – she isn't the least surprised.

Stranger things have happened.


	17. Chapter 17

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: Lost no longer belongs to JJ Abrams and crew. It was recently stolen by... the Others! And I'm not one of them, so I still don't own Lost.  
Summary: After an encounter with Cerberus leaves Kate injured and alone, she makes a deal with something she really shouldn't...  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... it is now getting darker, and (many) character deaths are guaranteed.

A/N – This chapter is dedicated to JuliaThorne, for her superb guess (I didn't dedicate the last chapter, because I didn't want to give anything away). I thought it was fitting, considering that after this is where Jate elements may start to come out.

* * *

**Chapter seventeen**

There seemed to be an eternity of suspended time between the gun firing and Sawyer falling backwards. In that time, Kate felt her body become hers again. Before the echo of the shot had even faded away she was stepping forward and catching him as he fell. No longer did she have the strength that had held Sawyer underwater – when his dead weight fell into her arms she lost her balance and hit the ground.

She was still not fully aware of what had happened. One minute they'd been laughing. Then he'd yelled at her, not believed her. He hadn't even given her a chance. Then she'd had the gun and when they'd told her to kill him she hadn't been able to stop herself.

And then, through a haze of disbelief and confusion, came truth. He was dead. He was dead. He was fucking dead! She had killed him. She started to shake. What had she done?

The answer to that question was all too obvious – it was on his forehead, a bloody red hole stared accusingly at her. It was as if he now had three eyes – one of them bright red, the other two a dull blue, and she thought she could still see the shock and lack of understanding lurking in the glazed orbs.

How could this have happened?

_You told him. We couldn't let him live._

"You BASTARDS!" Kate screamed aloud. "HOW... COULD... YOU..." Words failed her, but she continued to howl her anguish to the sky. "YOU MONSTERS! I TRUSTED YOU!" She screamed, no words, just along, primitive cry of despair.

Her screams dissolved suddenly into sobs, and she found herself rocking back and forth, tears cascading down her cheeks. The irony suddenly made itself clear to her – this was pain. Truly, this was pain. Her chest felt weak and crushed, as if someone had dropped an anvil onto it. Her ribs were aching, and she felt literally heartbroken – someone had grabbed hold of her precious organ and was squeezing it and any second she wouldn't be able to take it and it would burst...

She had killed him. She had taken the gun and pulled the trigger and he was dead because she had killed him.

She had no idea how long she stayed there, kneeling over his staring eyes and shocked expression. But eventually, she could cry no longer and the shock was no longer enough to keep the cold away. She had still been wet when he had died – she was dry now, but the day was drawing to a close and she was shivering.

_God forbid I'd actually die from cold, though,_ she thought bitterly. _You wouldn't let me die, would you?_

_Of course not_, the voices replied.

_He's dead because of you,_ she accused. She could tell they weren't particularly hurt by this aggressiveness.

_He's dead because you told him. You would have told him everything. We couldn't allow it. And he would have died anyway. They will all die._

_I won't do it_, Kate warned them. _I can't do that._

_Then we can give you back... to him._

That thought sent shivers running along Kate's spine. No. She couldn't face that. She felt the fear within her, until now coiled like a dormant snake, rise up so hard and fast she was almost sick. She knew they weren't bluffing. It had been them who had saved her from death – saved her from that crimson mist and Tom's voice and all that it represented. They could, as the saying went, just as easily throw her back to the lions.

Kill or be killed.

* * *

Everything that Kate had said to the voices and everything she had grieved for over the last few hours of that day paled in comparison with a new thought, one that made her heart almost stop and fresh tears force their way to the surface.

_What will Jack say?_

How could she tell him? How could she tell any of them? She and Sawyer had taken a walk in the morning and then she had shot him with a gun that didn't work. Would they believe her? What if they didn't? Hell, what if they did? It would raise too many questions. Questions that couldn't be answered with anything but the truth.

Jack was already angry and suspicious. There were a few people from the crash who still thought of her only as the fugitive in handcuffs. They wouldn't hesitate to assume the worst – they'd argued and she had deliberately pulled the gun and killed him.

But then, wasn't that what had happened? She had killed him. Pulled the gun from his back pocket and fired it straight at him, a single bullet that didn't exist landing between his eyes. His beautiful blue eyes, now filled with shock and resentment, dull as they gazed forever up at the jungle foliage. Kate finally realised that she should close them. Maybe escape their accusations.

Her fingers moved lightly over his face, and she folded the lids down. But instantly she yanked her hand away – his skin was cold, and beads of moisture still remained. It was like dipping a finger into frozen goo. Cold, solid, but a tiny bit of give.

How could she explain this? How could she tell anyone what she'd done? Some of them might understand. She knew Jack would try, but could they? Could anyone even guess what she was going through? She had deliberately gone for the gun.

_Put his body in the water_, the voices suddenly said. Kate looked up, her gaze resting on the perfectly still water of the pool.

"What?" she asked numbly.

_Put the body in the water. Go back. You tell them you don't know where he is. Soon, they'll stop asking._

Kate was disgusted by the idea. But she couldn't imagine herself going back and telling them she'd killed him either. She could imagine Jack asking her where Sawyer was – and then she saw it. She could already see her answer. She could feel her mind already taking the bare facts of the lie and twisting them into an elaborate story. She was creating details – details she wouldn't need, things no-one would ask her, but she needed to believe it, to pretend to herself that this was what had truly happened. And then maybe, just maybe, some of the guilt would go away.

* * *

It was nearly dark by the time she walked back onto the beach. She saw Jack wrap up from his conversation with Sun, who was by this point in time a fair way into her pregnancy, and make a beeline towards her. She grimaced, wondering if she could pull this off. She didn't think her conscience would let her.

"Kate," he called, and she stopped, waiting for him. She hated lying to him. But she could. And she needed to. She felt her insides screaming at her, she thought maybe she would open her mouth and just collapse, too righteous to pull this off. Get away with murder.

Her perceptions faded. The world around her dimmed, for only a second. When it came back, she found her breathing was steady and her heart was beating normally. So, they could help her lie, too. That might have been another warning, something she should have taken note of. But she didn't.

"I thought you were out with Sawyer," Jack commented, noting that she was alone. Like him to hit the nail on the head. Kate couldn't help a small choking sound escape her. Jack immediately leant forward, concerned.

"We had a fight," she told him, and then pushed herself towards her tent. Her guilt was only serving to make her lie stronger. Guess what? These are real tears. Seeing that she wanted some alone time, Jack let it rest. Word quickly spread around the camp. What they had argued about wasn't certain, though everyone had come up with a few theories each. But it was obvious Kate was upset, and no-one was surprised when Sawyer didn't come back that night.


	18. Chapter 18

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: Lost no longer belongs to JJ Abrams and crew. It was recently stolen by... the Others! And I'm not one of them, so I still don't own Lost.  
Summary: After an encounter with Cerberus leaves Kate injured and alone, she makes a deal with something she really shouldn't...  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... it is now getting darker, and (many) character deaths are guaranteed.

A/N – My updating has actually caught up to my writing speed, so I'm now putting chapters up as I write them. Please excuse any delays, but you know... reviews make me write faster... 

This is actually an important chapter. And more deaths coming up... I think I know who's next, in a few chapters. Chapter dedication to whoever can guess...

* * *

**Chapter eighteen**

Kate spent the next two days hiding. From herself, from guilt, from Jack. Form the whispers flying around. Curious theories were soon flying around – surely, however mad he may be, Sawyer would be back by now. Every time Kate thought she couldn't handle it anymore and would blurt the truth out, she felt the voices stir and take away the panic. It was incredible. It frightened her.

By the second morning, she could tell a few people were wondering where Sawyer was. It wouldn't be adequate to say they were worried – curious, maybe, but he still didn't have the greatest number of friends. Kate knew Jack would want to find him, though, just for the sake of knowing where he was.

The scar on her belly had faded to nothing. With it went a certain part of herself. She wasn't sure what it meant, but something, maybe whatever was left of her innocence, had disappeared.

She went for a walk, planning to avoid the questioning stares of the other survivors. Her friends. She could so easily see those looks of concern and pity turning to hatred if they ever found out what she had done. What had happened to Sawyer. Missing in action – that would be the most they would ever know.

Suddenly, she had a thought – just because Sawyer had never seen the pool before the day they went swimming, didn't mean no-one else had ever found it. And even if they hadn't yet, they might soon. The thought had barely crossed her mind and then she was running, as fast as she could. Her guilty conscience was already convinced that someone had found the beautiful pool and decided to go for a swim. She had to get there, _now_, and stop them.

She was genuinely astonished to get there and find the place deserted. Then her eyes drifted onto the still surface of the water, and being so close to where it had happened and what she had done made her sick. Literally.

Then she ran again. Back. To the beach, to the caves or the ruins of the hatch, which had become nothing more than a landmark. But she just felt herself running. When she finally stopped, tired but 

unable to feel anything more than discomfort at her heaving chest and prickling lungs, she noticed blood.

Wondering what she'd hurt this time, what other inconvenience was going to make her lie to Jack, she checked her arms and legs. She'd probably run through some bushes, and even though her arms were slightly scratched there was no blood on them.

Then she could taste it. Her own blood, in her mouth. She reached a hand up, and touched her lip, just below her nose. Blood. Her nose was bleeding, and there was blood running out from the sides of her eyes like some sort of gothic tears, and whether she'd bit her tongue or whether the walls of her mouth were bleeding, she couldn't tell.

_What happened?_ She asked silently. She didn't know if the voices would answer. She knew that when she asked, they could hear her. There was only silence in her head.

_Talk to me!_ She yelled mentally. She had reasoned that since they could either read her thoughts, or she could transmit them, there was no need to look crazy by talking out loud. There was still no response, however, and her mind began to work.

She touched her nose again – the blood had dried, and there was nothing else. She'd probably burst a lung, the rate she was going.

Was it possible, she wondered, that the voices weren't around all the time? That they had their own 'lives', whatever those consisted of, and only checked in on her from time to time, whenever something they deemed 'interesting' was happening? Or were they sleeping? Dormant?

This was both reassuring and distressing. It was good to think that she had her own privacy. That she could do things and say things they wouldn't know about. But then, if it was their influence keeping her safe from the other survivor's questioning, what if they asked when the voices weren't there to lend her strength, make her lies believable?

What if someone discovered the truth? Because now she realised her own status in the camp wasn't the biggest worry. It was how many people the voices would tell her to kill to keep her secret safe.

She had to test her theory. But how? Ask them something that they wouldn't be able to avoid answering. Kate looked around her, but the jungle – a section she recognised as being only a short way from Sun's garden – was deserted.

_Whatever you want, I won't do it,_ she whispered mentally. Nothing moved, and she didn't dare breathe. _I swear, I will fight you, I will never do your bidding again_.

Whenever she had even thought this before, it had drawn a reaction. It was true. Right now, at this instant – and on several other occasions – they weren't there.

Her thoughts tumbling around in the washing machine of her mind, Kate headed back to the beach on trembling legs. She ran her tongue around her lips and could once more taste the tangy flavour of her own fresh blood.


	19. Chapter 19

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: If you own Lost, I will buy it off you for twenty bucks. Well, alright. Thirty.  
Summary: After an encounter with Cerberus leaves Kate injured and alone, she makes a deal with something she really shouldn't...  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... it is now getting darker, and (many) character deaths are guaranteed.

A/N – I actually intended another filler chapter before I put this in – but I couldn't think of anything. So, Christmas comes early. Or Easter is on time. Happy Easter everyone! 21/3/08 Unfortunately, it wasn't as brilliant as I'd hoped it would be. It's supposed to be one of the most heartbreaking and emotional scenes of the fic.

Hello, everyone! Review? Please? If you don't, I spend half the time I should spent writing moping...

* * *

**Chapter nineteen**

She thought she was going mad. Well, madder. Crazier than just hearing voices and not dying and not feeling pain and accidentally killing someone...

The guilt. The guilt and the lies and the way no-one even seemed to doubt her. She had never realised that it could be this hard. She avoided them as much as possible, but she was keenly aware of Jack watching her one morning as she headed for the jungle. She was going to the river, to bathe herself. A regular enough exercise, and she thought she could assume Jack wouldn't follow.

But he did. She was very aware of that. The voices didn't seem to be around right now, and she thought maybe it would be a good test – if he questioned her now, would they come? Would she be able to lie to him, again? She sighed, and picked up the pace a little.

She headed upstream a little, keeping herself hidden from view. Then she stopped, and waited.

* * *

Jack couldn't track. But he knew where Kate was going. He needed to talk to her, and he wanted to be a fair way away from the beach, in case either or both of them started yelling – which he realised was quite likely. She was avoiding him, and for a few days he had let it be. He guessed that whatever she and Sawyer had argued about must be pretty serious, but he'd still like to know where the southerner had gone.

Because he definitely had not come back to camp.

Jack arrived at the river, but there was no-one there. Anxious, confused and exasperation increasing, he scanned up- and down-stream.

"What do you want, Jack?" she called, and he turned, to see her leaning against a tree. The dark green shirt and brown trousers she was wearing gave her a kind of camouflage, he realised. He swallowed. There was something exotic and dangerous about the way she was standing. It wasn't the hesitant, grieving stance she'd taken the last few days. The stare she was levelling at him was intense, and he almost backed down.

"I need to talk to you," he said, coming closer. They were only a few steps apart, and he saw her relax a little. Odd, he thought. Why was she so tense?

"About what?" she asked nonchalantly, reaching down to wash her hands in the running water.

"You know what," he said reprovingly. She started, and glanced up with him. Her hands were still in the water, so he couldn't tell whether it was an effect of the stream, or whether they were actually shaking.

"Kate... I need to know what Sawyer said. Because he hasn't been back for over three days, maybe something happened..."

Her eyes flashed. "I doubt it," she replied. There was a brittleness to her demeanour, though, that he figured he could crack with the right words.

"Where is he? Do you know?" he asked, bending down so he was at eye level with her. Yes, he thought, her hands _are_ shaking.

"He's not coming back," she said, her voice breaking slightly. She stood up and began drying her hands on her shirt, turning her back to him. Jack could only wonder at what she had said.

"So you know where he went," he stated. She didn't face him.

"Kate, where did he go?" Jack demanded, and now she did face him. He was astonished by the fear in her eyes.

"Please stop," she whispered. His own eyes widened in shock. She was pleading with him.

"Kate, what's going on?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said, but her tone betrayed her. "Please, just go."

If anything, her attitude only served to make him more curious, and more determined to stay. He caught her arm.

"Tell me," he insisted. And then she hit him. Not a slap, or a shove – she punched him in the jaw, and he had to admit later that most women couldn't hit a man with that sort of force. She tried to run, he could see it – the feral look in her eyes. Feral. That was the word that sprang to mind, and even as he thought it she was backing away from him.

His mind flashed back to the day she had first kissed him. How it had been unexpected, sudden, and then she had run. Almost like today, only it was a physical contact of a different kind.

On that day, there hadn't been a tree behind her, blocking her escape route. She could easily have pushed past him, but he could see her mind wasn't working along that logical train of thought. She lifted her hands, as if to push him away, even though he hadn't come any closer.

Feral. Wild. Scared and biting.

"Where's Sawyer, Kate?" Jack asked again, a thought nagging at him. He ignored it on purpose – he wouldn't think of her like that. Wouldn't believe that of her. But as her hands remained facing outwards, stopping him from coming any closer, her eyes were begging him to help her. It was as if there was an internal battle going on inside of her, and Jack couldn't do anything.

"He's dead," she whispered. Jack blinked in surprise. No, he thought. No, no, no. You didn't, Kate. You can't have...

"What happened?" he asked softly. He had been leaning forward. Now he let himself stand upright, increasing the distance between them a little. Not because he was scared of her, but because he could see she was scared of him, and wanted space.

"It was an accident," Kate managed to croak out. Tears were falling down her cheeks, and Jack wanted to go closer, to hold her and reassure her, but then she was talking.

"We were arguing and I told him... and then he tried to leave. He didn't believe me, Jack! I didn't even mean to do it but I was holding the gun when it went off... I killed him... I killed him..."

"Kate... what gun? What were you arguing about?" Jack asked, his own mind now struggling to keep up.

"I'm so sorry, sorry, I am so sorry..." She was repeating herself madly. "I didn't know what to do, and I didn't think anyone would believe me and I knew you'd try and help but then you'd get hurt too..."

He was watching her carefully, trying to determine what was going on. That's how he happened to be looking when the look in her eye changed – from scared and vulnerable to hard and cold.

"Run!" she called hoarsely. She was gripping her stomach, and her whole demeanour had just changed. Jack stepped forward.

"Jack, please..." she whispered. She seemed to be having trouble speaking, as if she was fighting with all her strength to form the words. "Please, Jack, I am begging you, run, run from me."

Astonished, he leant forward, as one of her hands caught the tree behind her, either aggressively or for support he couldn't tell. He caught the last few words.

"Run or you'll die."

In his shock, he took a few hasty steps backwards. He was scared now, for her and for him, and it gave her the space she needed to push herself away from the tree and away from him. She sprinted away, her feet splashing in the river and her hair flying behind her. Within seconds she was out of sight.

Jack didn't follow.


	20. Chapter 20

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: If you own Lost, I will buy it off you for twenty bucks. Well, alright. Thirty.  
Summary: After an encounter with Cerberus leaves Kate injured and alone, she makes a deal with something she really shouldn't...  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... it is now getting darker, and (many) character deaths are guaranteed.

A/N – Well, because I let you out of a filler chapter, you now have to bear with me rewriting the last chapter from Kate's POV. If you look at them in tandem it's the same scene and words, but I hope it's different enough to be interesting.

To **JuliaThorne **and **supersolanea**, my two fantastic reviewers, you are the ones who keep me writing this. And to everyone else, you'll have to pick it up. I feel lonely. There is still a chapter dedication going up to whoever can guess the next victim... (I've already had two guesses, and right now I'm not saying whether they're right or wrong – I'm anti-spoiler).

* * *

**Chapter twenty**

Kate watched Jack walk out from the bushes, and look around him on confusion. Some small part of her took pity on him and decided not to leave him hanging. _Watch yourself, Kate_, she thought. _Be careful with what you say. No-one's helping you today._

"What do you want, Jack?" she called, and he turned, and she forced her body to remain still as he spotted her.

"I need to talk to you," he said, coming closer. He hadn't noticed anything different about her yet, and she relaxed a little.

"About what?" she asked. She didn't know what to do with her hands. They could dangle uselessly at her sides, but if she crossed them in front of her it would seem too defensive. She bent down and let them trail in the cold water. It was refreshing, and she thought it would help keep her mind focused.

"You know what," he replied. There was an odd tone to his voice, and she couldn't help but wonder – _does he know?_ Surely not. Her hands began trembling as she looked up at him, and she couldn't take them out of the water now or he'd know.

"Kate... I need to know what Sawyer said. Because he hasn't been back for over three days, maybe something happened..."

Yes, she wanted to say. Something happened. Something awful. Me.

"I doubt it," she said, trying to keep her voice under control. Maybe it sounded a little too tight. His expression was hard, however, and she guessed he had geared himself up to get some answers.

"Where is he? Do you know?" he asked. He bent down, and she did her best to avoid looking him in the eye. She noticed his gaze flicker over her hands, and with an effort urged them to be still. What could she tell him? If the voices came and she had told him, he would die. Just like Sawyer, he would trust in the good, honest Kate, and pay for it.

"He's not coming back," she said. Clenching her fingers, she hid them under her shirt, pretending to dry them. Her damn hands would give her away, she thought bitterly.

"So you know where he went," Jack said, and she guessed it wasn't a question. She felt dangerously close to meltdown, and the last thing she needed was his face distracting her. She didn't face him.

"Kate, where did he go?" Jack demanded, and something in his voice – that might have been pain – forced her to turn. She felt her hold slipping. _No, no, no..._ she begged. _Help me, don't let me tell him, don't make me kill him... Please..._

"Please stop," she whispered. She saw how shocked he was, but her only chance now was to get away from him. To stop him. To stop herself.

"Kate, what's going on?" he asked.

_Everything!_

"Nothing," she said, but her voice was trembling and her eyes were prickling with restrained tears. Why didn't he understand? "Please, just go."

If he left, there was a chance. She was already fearing the reactions of the other survivors, wondering where she would go when they found out, because surely she couldn't stay on the beach.

"Tell me," he insisted. She swung at him, as hard as she could. If she could hurt him a little, maybe she could be saved from hurting him a lot. She saw a new respect growing in his eyes, but he still wasn't leaving. _Curse you, Jack, _she thought.

_She wants to run._

_Feral._

Kate felt her heart slow, as if it was considering stopping. Not again. Please, God, not again. As if there was a projector displayed on his forehead, she could see him thinking about their first kiss, from his point of view. She stepped backwards, took several steps. She needed to get out of here, and she knew he knew.

_She wants to run, Jack. Don't let her, hold her... she needs you..._

_No!_ Kate's mind screamed. She turned to flee, before he could grab her and before she told him everything. And met solid bark. Emotions rising, her panic almost at overflow, all she could see was forward and back – tree or Jack.

_Go to her_, he thought, and she heard it as if he had spoken it – only his lips didn't move. She lifted her hands, her last defence.

_Feral. Wild. Scared and biting._

Kate's eyes widened. Hadn't that been what Sawyer had thought? He had thought of her as an animal, a biting, spitting, caged animal. Maybe that's all she was now.

"Where's Sawyer, Kate?" Jack's voice reached her, and her throat tightened around the words she so desperately wanted to say. _Help me. I'm a murderer (again...). Help me, please Jack, go away, leave me alone and you can live..._

Then her lips opened and she was talking without meaning to.

"He's dead," she whispered. Jack blinked in surprise.

_Don't think it Jack, it can't be true... she wouldn't, you know her, she wouldn't... keep her talking, get her listening._

"What happened?" he asked her, and she heard the soft, soothing tone he was using. The kind you use on an injured, frightened animal. She tensed further, expecting him to suddenly yell at her, touch her, hold her when all she needed was for him to leave... he took a step back, and she took a deep breath. Maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe she could still escape.

"It was an accident," she said, and finally the dam broke and tears were falling down her cheeks.

_Now hold her, tell her it's all right and she'll calm down. You were right, she couldn't have done it..._

Kate groaned silently. If only she hadn't said that, if only... if only so many things. But now she needed to stop him, and the only way to do that was keep talking. The need was there but the words weren't working for her, and she didn't know how to explain it.

"We were arguing and I told him... and then he tried to leave. He didn't believe me, Jack! I didn't even mean to do it but I was holding the gun when it went off... I killed him... I killed him..."

"Kate... what gun? What were you arguing about?"

"I'm so sorry, sorry, I am so sorry..." Kate suddenly felt something in her mind shift. "I didn't know what to do, and I didn't think anyone would believe me and I knew you'd try and help but then you'd get hurt too..."

There was an odd feeling in her body, and she grabbed at her stomach – they were here. The voices had woken up and when they found out what she had just done, they would kill him, or kill her...

"Run!" she whispered. It was his only hope, but the stubborn fool stepped forward.

"Jack, please..." she whispered.

_What are you doing, Kate? What are you talking to him about, you both seem very distressed..._

And then Kate felt her blood freezing with horror as she realised what they were doing. Looking into her mind. They were replaying the entire conversation. Within seconds, they'd know.

"Please, Jack, I am begging you, run, run from me."

There was a hiss from the communal voices in her head, and worried about what they might do, she clenched her hands into the bark of the tree, thinking that so long as they were on the bark she could do no harm. He leant forward, and she wanted to tell him again, tell him everything, tell him to run, but then one of them – or all of them, they were like a single entity anyway – was working against her mouth. It took all her willpower to speak one last warning.

"Run or you'll die."

It was enough. He stepped backwards, and she had the space in front of her. Her feet barely touching the ground, she was running, desperately fleeing. His last chance was her own ability to defy those who owned her.


	21. Chapter 21

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: If you own Lost, I will buy it off you for twenty bucks. Well, alright. Thirty.  
Summary: After an encounter with Cerberus leaves Kate injured and alone, she makes a deal with something she really shouldn't...  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... it is now getting darker, and (many) character deaths are guaranteed.

A/N – Awww... I feel so lonely. Only one review, and not as many hits? Am I losing popularity? Is this getting old? Please, people, send me your thoughts, ideas, a rambling account of what you did last week...

I've got a real good idea of where this is headed. And a shout out to my awesome buddy Lucy, who is helping me with ideas and suggestions. Her current challenge is to bring Juliet's muffins into the story... which I plan on doing. But not just yet.

* * *

**Chapter twenty-one**

Jack walked onto the beach with a black eye, a bleeding lip, and his left cheek swelling dramatically. It was at this point he was thinking to himself how damn hard she could hit, and he wondered that he'd never really seen anything like this in her before. Though, he'd never really had her confess to killing her boyfriend before, either.

Everyone noticed. And the few who had seen him follow Kate less than an hour ago made sure everyone knew where he had been. Sayid tried to catch his eye but Jack resolutely headed towards his tent. With the whispers following him and several concerned calls, he felt like he should be calling out, 'no comment'.

He shrugged the flap aside, and checked his appearance in the shard of glass that served as a mirror. And swore. No wonder people were asking questions. He sensed, rather than heard, Sayid come in behind him. For the moment, he didn't say anything, but set about finding some of that thick paste Sun had made, which he applied to approximately seven people per day, for bruises.

"What did you do?" Sayid asked eventually. Jack winced, both from the innocuous question and the discomfort in his face.

"That's not the problem," he said, holding back a sigh. He gestured at Sayid to close the tent flap, then stopped. "Make sure no-one is listening to this, okay?"

"Of course," Sayid replied, checking outside the shelter before closing the flap and securing it. "What happened, Jack?"

"Kate was acting weirdly, you saw her. Agitated, restless. I went to talk to her."

"And did she not feel like talking?" Sayid asked, his brow furrowing. He sat down, and pressed his fingers to his temple.

"She was... very disturbed. Telling me to leave her alone but at the same time I could see how desperately she wanted to tell me something..."

"And did she?" Sayid prompted. Jack traced the cut along his lip, and went looking for some salve, to stop infection.

"I found out what happened to Sawyer," Jack said slowly, quietly. He didn't want anyone else hearing this, especially not until they understood exactly what had happened.

"I thought perhaps Kate might know where he was," Sayid admitted. "But..."

"She killed him," Jack said slowly, as if tasting the words on his tongue. They weren't very nice, he decided. Sayid's eyes widened ever so slightly and his arms came down, the only outward signs of shock.

"Are you sure?"

"Straight from the horse's mouth," Jack said with a bitter chuckle. "She said it was an accident, that somehow she'd shot him... but then why lie? That's what I can't work out. Why would she lie?"

"Fear," Sayid inserted simply. "What would you do, Jack? She was probably in shock, not thinking properly... so where is she now?"

"I don't know," Jack sighed. Realising there was nothing else to do for his face, he turned to face Sayid, who was deep in thought. There was silence for a few minutes.

"If she's still upset and not thinking straight, she could be in danger," Sayid considered out loud. Jack nodded, looking at the bruising, blood and swelling he'd attained from a single punch.

"Or a danger to someone else," he finally said.

"She did that?"

"Yes, incredibly. Wouldn't have thought she had it in her," Jack said. "One punch, from a woman who is clearly distressed and barely functioning..."

"So, you think she's dangerous? To us?"

Jack hesitated. "Yes," he said, accepting it at last. "And not because she packs a hell of a whack, either." He hesitated again. Now would be the test – could he trust Sayid not to judge Kate or try to hunt her down?

"She threatened to kill me," he admitted. Sayid's back straightened, and his dark eyes bore into Jack intensely. "It wasn't like her, though. She had just told me what had happened – or she had tried, it wasn't very clear – and then, all the panic on her face just left. She looked like she was in pain. There was this..."

Jack's hands had risen into the air as he tried to explain, and now he let them flop back down to his lap.

"She begged me, Sayid. She was begging me to run. She said that if I didn't run – from her – I would die."

"Is that an actual threat, or was she scared of someone else?" Sayid wondered, and Jack bit his lip anxiously, withdrawing with a hiss when he encountered the scrape.

"I don't know. It seemed to be her."

"From what you've said Jack, it doesn't sound like her at all. It sounds like she was possessed."

* * *

Kate ran until she was deep into the jungle, and her heart was pounding so fast inside her chest she was surprised it hadn't burst – though if it had, would she even know? At this thought, she started to get angry.

_What's going on? I want some answers!_

_Why did you tell him?_

_Why are you doing this to me?!_

_Why did you tell him?_

_How long will this last?_

_Why did you tell him?_

_How... I had to! I had to tell him, he was asking, and I couldn't lie to him anymore._

Kate felt her breathing steady, and she looked around the jungle, feeling something close to resignation. She couldn't go back now – of course not. Jack would tell everyone, half of them would hate her, and who knows? Maybe some would even try to kill her. An eye for an eye.

This won a snort of laughter from her. No, they couldn't kill her. She wasn't going back because she didn't want to kill them.

_They'll die anyway._

_Why?_ she asked. Silence. With a sigh, she stood up. Where could she go now? It would be a good idea to get some of her things from the beach, before she left entirely. But she didn't want to risk going there. If she was seen, or if she suddenly lost control of herself, it could be disastrous. Too many people could die.

Too many people would die.


	22. Chapter 22

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: Most people, you can tell they don't own Lost because their stories actually have logic and answers in them. Because I'm not one of them, I think it's necessary for me to say - I don't own Lost. Thankyou. We now resumer you scheduled reading.  
Summary: After an encounter with Cerberus leaves Kate injured and alone, she makes a deal with something she really shouldn't...  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... it is now getting darker, and (many) character deaths are guaranteed.

A/N – I did a bit of research for this. I'm not 100 percent about Iraqi superstitions, or the thing at the end (whether it works like that) but I thought Sayid needed some lines.

Note, I got three reviews (Thankyou guys, so quick, too!) and now I am updating the next day. Review numbers are proportional to update speed.

* * *

**Chapter twenty-two**

"You believe in possession?" Jack asked. It had been a little while since their last conversation, and both had been thinking hard about what this might mean and what they could do to stop it.

"Superstition is very strong in the middle east," Sayid replied. "Especially in creatures called _Jinns_, or ghouls."

"But do you think there can be something like that, in real life?" Jack persisted. Sayid glanced at him, slightly coolly.

"To some people, a superstition is real life. It is all around them and deserves to be scared of. And yes, I do believe something sinister may be happening."

"How?"

"Here, Jack? On this island, never ask how."

There was an uncomfortable pause. Jack was trying to understand how level-headed Sayid was suddenly talking about the mysteries of the Island, and doing it so comfortably.

"Well, I am asking how – how do we stop it?" he said eventually. Sayid's gaze roamed the beach, resting for a moment on the small shelter that belonged to Kate. It was slightly out of the way, very private. With the flap closed and no fire outside at the moment, even as it grew dark, it seemed extremely lonely.

"First we need to find out what happened," Sayid said, thinking out loud. "And to do that we need to ask Kate."

"Should we go out looking? It's getting dark."

"Jack, if she intends to come back to this camp, she'll do so before nightfall. If not, she'll wait until late and take what she needs from her shelter, and then disappear."

Jack blanched. The idea of Kate leaving, going alone into the jungle with no-one to help or protect her, was unsettling. The idea of never seeing her again was even worse.

"We have one chance, then," he said.

"Not us, Jack. I think she's already scared of you – you don't understand this, and it is making you aggressive. I'll talk to her, if she comes back."

* * *

Kate let her eyes wander over the seemingly deserted beach camp. She stayed hidden under the tree cover, checking to see if anyone was awake. After nearly an hour, there had been practically no movement. A few people had stumbled sleepily into the jungle and emerged a minute later, and she had seen a few people sneakily make their way into someone else's tent. There was a low buzz in the air – fires crackling, tent flaps rippling in the slight breeze, and the more solid wood constructions creaking a little.

On the run, she'd often waited hours to make sure a place was safe before moving. With a sigh and quickly checking all her limbs were awake, she took a few silent strides, and slipped inside her own shelter.

As a soldier, Sayid had been trained to sit for hours, not making a sound nor moving a muscle. He had spotted Kate almost instantly. He had been impressed by her ability to wait, and had been curious to see just how long she would keep it up. When she moved, it was sudden and smooth, almost feline. To anyone looking for her, she would only have been in clear sight for a few seconds.

His legs had become slightly numb, and Sayid stretched, waiting for the pins and needles to pass before making an identical fluid movement, coming in behind Kate silently.

Which was his first mistake. She had no warning, and when he popped out of nowhere behind him, she swung instinctively, one hand reaching for his throat the other bracing in front of her to ward off a counter attack. He caught her wrist mid air, and stepped into a sliver of moonlight, coming in through a strategically placed slit near the top of the shelter.

"It's me," he whispered. She relaxed, just slightly, and let him go.

"Did Jack tell you?" was all she asked, just as quietly. He nodded.

"No-one else," he added. She looked at him curiously, her green eyes glinting slightly in the darkness. Almost sinisterly. It reminded Sayid of the Other Mikhail's cat, Nadia, the way its eyes had glittered after the Flame had been destroyed. He wondered briefly what had happened to the creature. It had probably turned feral.

"Doesn't change anything. I can't stay here," she said nervously. He wondered at that, too.

Kate wasn't shocked by Sayid's attempt to talk to her. But she knew she didn't have long. She had walked aimlessly for a while that evening, and had then felt a sort of dissipation in her mind, when the voices had left her to go about their own business. Then she had headed for the beach. She had to grab a few things, and be gone before they woke up.

"What's happening?" he asked softly.

"I can't tell you that," she said, feeling choked. He didn't move – didn't reach a hand out or try and comfort her in any way, and it was the right decision. She relaxed another notch.

"Is someone – or something – making you do things?" he asked cautiously. Her head snapped sideways, and she stared at him. He noticed her hands trembling. She didn't answer, instead shoving a few different types of clothing into a backpack. It was enough.

"It's not your fault, Kate," he said. "Whatever they said, whoever they are, they are doing this against your will. It's not your fault."

"But it is..." she whispered. "I let them in. I... I can't stop them."

"There must be a way of getting rid of them," he told her.

"There is," she admitted guiltily, hugging the backpack to her chest. He noticed tears glimmering, causing her eyes to shine eerily. "But I can't do that, either..."

"Why not?" he asked gently.

Suddenly, she twitched. That was his only warning, and the way the tears vanished from her eyes and the green orbs turned cold. One hand went behind her back to where he knew she always carried a knife.

In a single fluid movement, he reached out, and knocked two fingers into the side of her neck. He caught her as she fell, unconscious.


	23. Chapter 23

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: Most people, you can tell they don't own Lost because their stories actually have logic and answers in them. Because I'm not one of them, I think it's necessary for me to say - I don't own Lost. Thankyou. We now resumer you scheduled reading.  
Summary: After an encounter with Cerberus leaves Kate injured and alone, she makes a deal with something she really shouldn't...  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... it is now getting darker, and (many) character deaths are guaranteed.

A/N – Yay, precious reviews! Keep it up guys, it can be anything from support to queries or pleas. But yeah, it IS a dark fic and if you tell me how much you love so-and-so I'm actually more likely to try and kill them off... I'm not sure how high the body count will reach but neither am I sure exactly what happens at the end. So it could be a happily-ever-after, or an everyone's-dead thing. Be aware that either's possible, my job is just to make it as entertaining and interesting as possible.

This chapter was annoying, hard, and never seemed realistic or how I wanted it. Appreciate it, please. It's also long, and should give you something to gnaw on.

* * *

**Chapter twenty-three**

Kate woke suddenly, and her mind was still reaching back the knife. She tried to move one hand, but found she couldn't. Then she opened her eyes. It was just before dawn, and she was in the jungle. Sayid was sitting with his back to her, being yelled at by Jack.

"You knocked her out and tied her up? What the hell is wrong with you –"

"He didn't do it tight enough," she said. Jack looked over, obviously relieved. Then it seemed he would resume his tirade against Sayid, who had turned to her thoughtfully.

"Jack, stop," she said. Once he'd said it, she'd realised what was wrong. Her hands were tied behind her back, with enough leeway that the circulation wouldn't be cut off. Which in her opinion wasn't nearly tight enough.

"I'm sorry," Sayid said calmly. "I thought..."

"You thought wrong!" Jack said nastily. Then he was by her side, concern in his eyes. "Do you feel dizzy, nauseous?"

"No," she replied. "And he thought right. If he hadn't... he'd be dead now. I'm the one who should be sorry."

This was enough to stop Jack. He blinked at her a few times, before turning to Sayid and then back to Kate.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked. Kate couldn't meet his eyes. "Someone tell me, right now!" he said, louder. Kate looked up, and her eyes flashed. Whether with anger and irritation, or something else, Sayid couldn't quite tell.

"Jack," he warned. He had noticed how much calmer Kate seemed today, but he could still remember the antipathy he'd felt when she'd gone for her knife last night.

"Tie me tighter," Kate said to Sayid. He hesitated. Jack looked distressed.

"Hell, no!" he said roughly. "Untie her," he said to Sayid. Kate cut in before they could start arguing again.

"You want me to tell you anything, you tie me tighter," she said fiercely. Jack's helpless gaze returned to her, and she swallowed. "I don't want to hurt you," she added quietly.

Sayid came forward slowly, kneeling beside her. "Does it hurt?" he asked. She stopped herself from laughing.

"No, not at all," she reassured him. With a business like calm, he rearranged the ropes around her wrists so she couldn't even twitch her fingers. While Jack was looking away, she whispered to Sayid, "It's probably better if Jack's not here..."

He understood. She was grateful for that.

"Jack, maybe we should talk in private..." Sayid began, and by the flashing glare Jack gave him, he knew it wouldn't be an easy argument to win. "I'll tell you the instant we get some answers, but until then..."

Jack looked like he wanted to punch the other man. But he didn't. He gave one curt nod, and strode off. Sayid paused thoughtfully, then came and sat beside Kate.

"You shouldn't sit that close," Kate said bitterly. "I meant what I said. I don't want to hurt anyone else."

"Who is it making you do this?" he asked. Kate tried to meet his gaze, and failed.

"I don't know," she replied. "All I know is that they want everyone in our camp dead."

"You don't know why..." Sayid trailed off, Kate already shaking her head. She was waiting for him to ask about Sawyer. She was hoping to explain as much as she could before they woke up – and really, she had no idea whether simply tying her wrists together would be enough.

"I can't stop them, either. I've tried. They say things and it's like I'm no longer in control..."

"How do they communicate with you?" he asked. She sighed, and nonchalantly tried to twist her hands.

"I hear them... voices. Whispers, in my head."

Something passed across Sayid's face, but Kate wasn't watching closely enough to determine what it was.

"I didn't know what they wanted... I thought I was going crazy. And then things started happening, things I didn't mean to do..."

"How long?" he asked. She blinked.

"A while. Ever since... the monster attacked me. But I didn't realise at first, it took ages before I even listened to what they were saying."

"And Sawyer..." Sayid prompted, and Kate blanched. Her shoulders trembled a little.

"We were just talking... and then we were..." she blushed a little, and didn't need to say anything more. "He found out what was happening to me. He was yelling at me, and I was trying to explain but I didn't know how."

She took a deep breath, to stop herself breaking down. "And I heard them say, 'Kill him', and... I had the gun in my hand. I don't even remember it, but then he was dead, and I..." her voice wavered, and broke. Tears fought their way to the surface, and she struggled to hold them back.

"Then they were telling me what to do, and I did it. I can't believe I just..."

"It's alright Kate, it wasn't your fault," Sayid said, and one arm went around her shoulders.

As if his touch was a cue, she shuddered, and felt like someone had just started spying on her.

_What are you doing Kate? _Now_ what are you doing?_

_No!_ she screamed, trying to hide the thoughts from them. Something must have tipped Sayid off because he suddenly jerked backwards. He watched her carefully. She shivered again, and then her head swung around.

Her arms were twisting and her hands struggling with the rope. "Untie me," she hissed. Sayid didn't reply, but continued to watch her.

"Sayid, they're back," she said, her voice suddenly scared. "You need to untie me, I need to get away from here, before they see you!"

Something stirred him. He took a step forward, but was caught by the glimmer of triumph in her expression. He shook his head, remaining a step away.

And then it all fell apart. Jack came back into sight, and Sayid flinched at the expression on his face. It was pure rage, at the sight of Kate struggling against the ropes and pleading with Sayid to let her go.

"You bastard –"

"Don't touch her, Jack," Sayid warned. Kate, hearing his voice, turned. Jack was immediately lost in her fragile green gaze.

"Please, Jack, help me," she whispered. He was at her side in an instant, cutting the rope, already turning to accuse Sayid – who looked suddenly scared. Surprised, Jack was frozen in place for a moment.

Feeling slightly cold on the inside, he faced Kate again. The tears were gone. There was no pleading or begging. There was instead a look of refined calculation. Then she smiled, or pretended to – it didn't reach her eyes, and it didn't look right.

"Why thank you, Jack. They say thank you, too." She laughed. It was bitter and empty. "All you get for it is your life – for now. And you..." She spun on one heel, her gaze resting on Sayid. She took a step forward, and Jack was astonished to see the soldier take a step back.

"You shouldn't have found that out. They're mad, now." She took another step forward, and although Sayid flinched slightly, he didn't move this time. She reached out her hand, slowly, gently, until they were almost touching, and then with the speed of a striking viper, wrapped her fingers around his throat.

Jack expected Sayid to shake her off easily. And the idea that Kate's little fingers could strangle him was laughable. All the same, he stepped forward.

She lifted a hand and suddenly Jack felt himself winded. He was pressed up against a tree by some invisible force, and somehow, his feet weren't touching the ground. He was suspended. Now he truly felt fear.

"Kate!" he called. She didn't reply. Her fingers were slowly tightening around Sayid's neck, whose own hands were clutching hers.

"Fight them, Kate," Sayid whispered. Jack was surprised he had enough air to talk at all. "Fight, damn you!" And Jack could see the iron grip loosening. The fingers were flexing, as if trying to tighten and open at the same time.

"No," she whispered. "Don't..."

Where the knife came from, Jack couldn't tell. But it was suddenly there, in her hand – and the next second, it was in Sayid's chest. Jack suddenly felt the grip holding him vanish, and he fell to the ground. Panting, he pulled himself to his feet, and stumbled over to where Sayid lay, blood gushing.

His raised his eyes to meet Kate's. She was backing away, seemingly herself again, and she understood what he was telling her. Her gaze flickered to her hands, which were spattered with drops of blood, and then to Sayid, and finally back to Jack. She swallowed, and then fled.

Jack tried desperately to stop the bleeding, but Kate had pulled the knife out – he had already lost too much. Sayid's lips moved, and Jack leaned forward anxiously.

"Sayid?"

"The... whispers... it's the whispers..." he croaked, and then the short, frantic, breaths he was taking stopped.


	24. Chapter 24

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: Hail to the creators of Lost! I'm narcissistic enough to worship myself, but in this scenario, it's just not true.  
Summary: After an encounter with Cerberus leaves Kate injured and alone, she makes a deal with something she really shouldn't...  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... it is now getting darker, and (many) character deaths are guaranteed.

A/N – This chapter dedicated to **supersolanea** for being the first to guess Sayid would die – you got that way back, well done. A little Jacket in the mix, and there will be more – it's something I haven't done much of before, so I don't know how good it is. But this chapter wrote really quick, (unlike 25...) and that usually means it's some of my better work.

In answer to some of my other FANTASTIC reviewers: (I know, I should thank you all every chapter, but I don't want to fill up this AN with too much that's not the story.)

**DDR-HATES-ME:** Sorry about killing Sawyer. Funny, he's one of my favourite characters and yet in all my major stories he ends up dead...  
**NeptuneLost47: **Thanks for your reviews. Simple and encouraging. The sort of thing that makes me update as quickly as possible.  
**LostSista:** No worries. Glad you're back. I try and update as regularly and quickly as possible, because I hate waiting for stories and I love to hear everyone's comments.  
**4-8-15-JuliaThorne-16-23-42: **I cannot express how wonderful I find your reviews. They are always fast and loving, and your dedication to my story makes me hope I can make this as brilliant as I can for readers like you. (Don't praise me too much more or my ego will get even bigger! Oh wait. It's outside at the moment, because it doesn't fit in my room anymore. Lol.)

* * *

**Chapter twenty-four**

Jack's wasn't relishing the idea of telling everyone what had occurred. But, either as a matter of importance or a method of procrastination, he went to see Juliet first. Hard to miss her, actually, considering she was already in his tent.

"Jack? What _happened_?" she asked, aghast. He quickly closed the flap, and studied his reflection.

"Shit," he breathed. As well as the bruising and swelling on his face, his shirt was ripped in two places, underneath which more bruises could be seen. There was blood on his shirt, and his jeans, and his hands and arms. He said a silent prayer of thanks that no-one had seen him come into camp.

"Sayid's dead," he muttered, not facing her. She didn't say anything, but he could feel her shock permeating the room. "Kate killed him. I was there."

"Kate? Why would she..."

"I don't know," Jack said sharply. He sighed and sat back. He didn't know much of anything. The one person he'd trusted from the word go, and now he couldn't. He couldn't trust himself, either. Sayid had died because he hadn't been able to control himself.

"She killed Sawyer, too," Jack admitted. "I found out yesterday, and when Sayid and I tried to talk to her..."

"She just killed him? Jack, that doesn't seem..."

"I know. I know."

Silence. She reached forward and pulled his shirt off. She fumbled around his tent, trying to find the various herbs and pastes they used for injuries. He sucked in a breath when she touched his chest, trying to examine the depth of the bruising.

"She did this?" Juliet asked. Jack tried to evaluate the tone of her voice. Slightly aggressive. He wondered if that was a problem.

"Without even touching me," Jack replied. Juliet's tender fingers hesitated, and Jack forced himself to look at her. "She... wasn't herself. Sayid said she'd been possessed. I think he's right."

"Possessed by what?" Juliet asked, then quickly added, "No, I get it. You're asking me." She paused. "I don't think, in nearly four years, I've ever heard of the Island possessing anyone before."

"Really? Because after Sayid suggested it, it seemed pretty logical for the Island to have been doing that regularly," Jack replied. It was hard to tell if he was being sarcastic. Juliet guessed he wasn't, not fully at least.

"So how'd she do this?" Juliet asked.

"She lifted a hand and I was flung back against a tree. It was as if I was being trodden on by an elephant, or a truck or something."

Juliet stared at him. "That's..."

"I know," Jack replied, wincing as she pushed a little harder.

"I think she may have damaged your left lung."

"There was an actual change... between her and... them. It. I saw her and she was talking to me, and then afterwards... her eyes were cold. She was talking differently."

"So what are you going to do?" Juliet asked.

"I have to tell everyone. I have to tell them... not to go near her. Not to look for her. Because she'll kill them if they do. She said as much, when she was still Kate."

Juliet could see how pained Jack was by the decision. But she knew he was right – they needed to know. She rested on hand on his shoulder, which seemed to be the least injured part of him.

"I'll tell them. You stay here," she said. Jack looked up at her, gratitude shining out of swollen face, opposing his next words.

"You can't. It's my job, I better..."

"No, Jack," she said. His damn moral sense of responsibility. "You're injured, weak. You could have a concussion. The last thing we need is for you to be harmed further." It wasn't a lie – he looked terrible. "Change your clothes while you're at it," she suggested.

He nodded, and unable able to stop himself, fell back onto his bed. His eyes closed, and Juliet watched him for a moment. Relief outweighs responsibility. But there'd be enough of that later.

* * *

Kate headed south. Rousseau had promised to remove all her traps from the area around the survivors camp, but far south, near her own isolated home, there would probably be more. Kate wasn't worried. They couldn't hurt her.

Kate wondered about Rousseau for a few minutes. She was alone, nearing insanity, and the sole survivor of her shipwreck. Had everything she'd said about the deaths of her fellow shipwreck survivors been the truth? She'd admitted to killing them. Kate could see herself in a few years time, looking around herself bitterly at the graves of those she used to call friends.

She pushed the image away. It wouldn't happen. She wouldn't let it happen.

* * *

Back at the beach, Jack was having similar thoughts. He had guessed they would need to talk to Rousseau from Sayid's last words – the whispers. Then he had remembered what Danielle had said when leading them out to the Black Rock. Her team had been sick, so she had killed them. What if it was the other way around? What if it had been her that was sick?

Unfortunately, now that the shock was fading, Jack could feel every bruised and battered bone in his body. He could barely move. Juliet was right – one of his lungs was damaged. This was the part of being Island Doctor he hated the most – he could diagnose, but couldn't do anything about it.

A few people had come to see him. Well wishers, granting him a speedy recovery. And while he lay on his bed, head and chest aching, he couldn't help but wonder at their real motives. They didn't want their doctor incapacitated. It reduced their ability to complain about their little problems, and meant they didn't have anyone to deal with the major problems. And, of course, they were all coming past to see if it was true – to see if Jack was injured, that Kate was gone, that Kate was a murderer.

Jack promised himself, as soon as he was healthy, he'd find Rousseau, and then he'd find Kate. He would put everything back in its rightful place.

He felt a chill when he realised that with two men dead, nothing would ever really be normal again.


	25. Chapter 25

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: Hail to the creators of Lost! I'm narcissistic enough to worship myself, but in this scenario, it's just not true.  
Summary: After an encounter with Cerberus leaves Kate injured and alone, she makes a deal with something she really shouldn't...  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... it is now getting darker, and (many) character deaths are guaranteed.

A/N – This chapter can be defined by the words, torture, agonising, and a real bitch. Seriously. I spent days on this – writing, deleting, writing some more, crying, reading... God. I absolutely HATE this chapter, thus it's atrocious length.

I will do everything in my power to make the guessing of next character to die as difficult as possible. Be warned. And it is happening... incredibly soon. Didn't plan that, but then, who am I to argue with the muse?

* * *

**Chapter twenty-five**

Everyone had been delighted, if a little mystified and possibly scared, when the pallet drop had appeared several months after the crash. Two months later, the same thing had happened again. Less questions were asked. Now, after approximately six and a half months, there was a third. Juliet was overseeing the retrieval of food goods, to make sure people didn't go wild. Basically, they would transport everything to the beach, where people would take as they would. They couldn't ensure anything more concrete.

Suddenly, David who-once-was-a-hairdresser took a step back in astonishment. He whistled through his teeth, and Juliet took a step closer.

"What is it?" she asked. He chucked a rounded object towards her. Blinking in surprise, she located the Dharma symbol and the words _Easter Confectionary_. A smile tugging at her lips, she gave David a thumbs up.

It was a chocolate egg.

* * *

A few survivors were eager to have some sort of Easter celebration. Jack wasn't interested. In fact, Jack was barely conscious enough to comprehend what was actually happening. Several of the myriad of cuts and scrapes all over his body had become infected. He knew it wasn't bad, or deep – it would just take a few days for him to get through. Also, the bruises were swelling, making movement difficult. He felt like it was wasting time he needed to be using to help Kate.

He was practically running the camp through Juliet at the moment. Serious problems she consulted him on, and he made a half-hearted attempt to solve it. Normally, in a moment of crisis, whenever Jack wasn't able to help, Sayid was. For the first time, he wasn't. Neither was Sawyer, who people had actually looked up to, and everyone had respected his intelligence. Nor, for that matter, was Kate, who was very good at breaking up the fights that everyone got into.

Jack felt so alone. He probably wouldn't have been able to cope if it hadn't been for Juliet. She kept him in the loop, and didn't question his decisions, when he finally found the energy to make them.

He made up his mind even before he had recovered. He'd clean himself up and go south, find Rousseau. He could say he just wanted to tell her about Sayid – maybe she'd offer some information. On the other hand, she rarely offered anything.

So he'd probably have to press, just a little.

* * *

Juliet had never been one to follow orders. And so while Jack was sick, she did everything he needed her to do for the camp, but she also made her own preparations. She was going after Kate.


	26. Chapter 26

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: Hail to the creators of Lost! I'm narcissistic enough to worship myself, but in this scenario, it's just not true.  
Summary: After an encounter with Cerberus leaves Kate injured and alone, she makes a deal with something she really shouldn't...  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... it is now getting darker, and (many) character deaths are guaranteed.

A/N – By the way, I have no idea what the directions are in terms of location on the island on the show. This confusion may have been created by different episodes showing the sun rising on opposite sides of the beach. Thanks for your reviews, guys, it makes writing that much more enticing. I'm struggling to write through a wall of writer's block at the moment, which is hard. A few more reviews, and who knows? It could disappear for a while. Hint-hint, nudge-nudge.

* * *

**Chapter twenty-six**

Kate veered northwest. She didn't know where she was headed exactly. She was basically following the routes of all her old hikes, but veering off before she got there each time. She had gone south until she reached the cable running through the jungle, but before she could accidentally encounter Rousseau, she swung west. The next day, she angled north at the same time, unconsciously heading for the barracks. The sonar fence would stop her meeting people.

For now, she didn't feel lonely. She avoided thinking about how that would change. Instead, she did what she usually did while hiking – watched the scenery. There were some truly beautiful landscapes hidden in the jungle, and she could stumble onto one at any time. For now, she'd move around, looking, running, whatever it was she was actually doing.

She was waiting. Waiting for something to happen, something that would determine her next course of action.

* * *

Jack limped off the beach. The swelling had faded, but his chest was still an ugly shade of yellow from the bruises. He was going after Rousseau, and by the time anyone realised he was missing he'd be too far for them to go after him. Maybe it was reckless. But a part of him didn't care. Two men were dead, and unless he could stop this now, many more would die.

And it would be a while for anyone to notice that he wasn't there. They were all busy having their Easter celebration, gorging themselves on Dharma brand junk food and mentally debating who they would chat up tonight.

It was growing dark, but Jack knew that he could move all night. He was sore and a little unfit, but he had been resting for a week, and he was desperate to get moving. His energy was back. So were all the problems he had to deal with.

He figured the beach would be safe. Desmond had a cool head, so long as he didn't get drunk, and Hurley was good for people's moral. And if they needed a doctor, there would still be Juliet, of course.

* * *

Juliet moved as quietly as possible through the jungle. She'd slipped away from the group while they were partying. She had no idea which direction would go, but she guessed it would be away from people. South, then, or west. She decided to go south first, an impulsive decision.

She had gleaned as much information as she could from Jack about Kate's 'possession', and figured she was prepared. Keep at a distance. Don't act threatening in any way. Don't pry into the mystery, because that always seemed to set her off.

Juliet wasn't entirely sure why she was going. She just needed to escape the daily life of the camp, which was slowly eating away at her reserves. The general opinion was always slightly pessimistic. They would never get off the island. Rescue would never come. The world had stopped existing in their absence and there was no longer anything to wait for.

She was also curious. And while she and Kate weren't friends, whenever they weren't in direct competition they managed to get along. Kate had eventually decided to let bygones be as such, and Juliet hadn't mentioned their rocky introduction since. So, maybe there was something she could do.

Juliet's not worried about leaving the camp without telling anyone. She hopes not to be gone long, after all. And Jack is a lot better now – if anything goes wrong, he'll be able to handle it. She wonders if he'll be mad at her when he finds out where she went – she sighs, guessing the answer.

She sees an embankment, and instead of going around, slides down. It's almost like going down a snowdrift on a sled – except her shoes are now dirty. Smiling to herself, she keeps walking. Surely they'd notice her gone by now. She'd moved steadily south all night, and rested for only a few hours this morning.

She was thinking about stopping and resting again, maybe eating something, when she heard a slight click. Her subconscious leaping into action, she spun around – to find the muzzle of a gun pointing into her face.

From the look on the other woman's face, she guessed that the safety was off.


	27. Chapter 27

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: Hail to the creators of Lost! I'm narcissistic enough to worship myself, but in this scenario, it's just not true.  
Summary: After an encounter with Cerberus leaves Kate injured and alone, she makes a deal with something she really shouldn't...  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... it is now getting darker, and (many) character deaths are guaranteed.

A/N – Aw. I'm not as sneaky as I give myself credit. You all knew who it was. Did no-one pick up on the fact that it's probably not a good thing for both Jack and Juliet to leave without telling anyone? Especially as each thought the other would handle it?

Damn. This chapter took way too long, and I made all you wait too long. But in my defence, I had an IPT assignment to do. The whole assignment, after a phone call revealed it was due the next day – and I hadn't started it yet. And exams. Anyway. At least it's long – longest chapter yet!

* * *

**Chapter twenty-seven**

"Put it down, Danielle," said a voice. Juliet was tempted to turn, not immediately recognising the speaker, but kept her eyes trained on the woman in front of her. Her hair was long and unkempt, and she didn't seem concerned in the least with the normal safety precautions involved with using a gun. She did, however, lower the muzzle from Juliet's face at the command.

Juliet took he opportunity to turn. "Jack!" she said in surprise. He looked at her, obviously confused, for a moment, before turning back to Rousseau.

"She's a friend, Danielle. She's one of us."

"She was on your plane?"

Juliet had heard of the 'crazy French chick' from various survivors, but had never been face to face with her before. This, she realised, was Alex's mother. Though crazy French chick summed it up.

"No, but we can trust her," Jack said. Juliet wondered whether it might have been better for him to say yes.

"So where did she come from?" Rousseau hissed, lifting the gun a little again. "She's one of them, isn't she? Why are you –" She took a moment to swing the gun around to point it at Jack. "Making friends with _them_?"

"That's who I was," Juliet interrupted. "I was one of the Others. But I'm not anymore."

"And why did you leave?" Rousseau asked. Jack held his breath – she'd need a damn good reason to satisfy Danielle when she was in this state.

"Well, they did want me dead. Because I betrayed them, tried to kill their leader and," Juliet blushed slightly. "I fell in love with Jack."

The gun lowered. Jack released a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

"What are you doing out here, then?" she asked finally.

"I wanted to find you, actually," Jack said. Rousseau snorted silently, but nodded, and slung the rifle over her back.

"And she? Why is she here?" she asked, gesturing to Juliet. Jack paused, and Juliet caught a look in his eye – the one that meant he was mad. It had been the first look he'd ever given her, and she had never forgotten it.

"That's a damn good question," Jack said, looking pointedly at her. _Think fast, Julie, think fast_, she said to herself. _You're gonna get a gold star if you get out of this one._

She couldn't tell him she'd been looking for Kate. He wouldn't understand why, in addition to the fact that he'd explicitly told her not to. And he'd feel betrayed, and if he fell into one of his self-pitying dark moods he wouldn't forgive her quickly.

But God, she hated lying to him. After she'd told him the truth behind her reason for being at their camp, after he had forgiven her so easily and quickly, she'd promised herself never to lie to him again. There'd been moments. Mainly white lies, said to protect him from worrying too much.

A pause grew. Jack and Danielle were both staring at her.

"What?" she asked quickly, to cover up and to give herself a few more seconds. Hopefully it just looked like her mind had wandered. Then it clicked.

"What are you doing out here?" Jack repeated. Yes, he definitely had that look in his eye. Not in full force just yet, but it was lurking almost expectantly. As if he knew that whatever she was doing, it wasn't going to be to his liking.

"I was looking for you," she said, a little harshly. He blinked. She ran with it, walking towards him as she spoke. "You left camp without telling anyone where you were going, or how long you'd be. I was worried."

Finally, her hand reached forward to cup his cheek. Perfect. She hated herself. His expression softened.

"I'm sorry," he said. "But I thought you'd..."

"You're still injured," she cut in.

"I'm fine," he said.

"Why were you looking for me?" Rousseau asked suddenly, and Jack stepped away from Juliet.

"I want information. Something you may have seen."

"She doesn't have your information?" Rousseau asked, gesturing at Juliet. Jack grimaced.

"No. You've been here longer than her, anyway," Jack said. Danielle watched him carefully for a moment, then nodded again.

"Fine. What information?"

* * *

Rousseau led the way to her shelter. It was a half wooden, half metal, set into the ground. Jack immediately appreciated the sheer solidity of it. It would weather the harsh climate for a long time yet, he was sure of it. She gestured to bench, which they sat down on. Jack sent Juliet a glance - let me handle this. She opened her mouth to argue, but he glared, and she closed it.

"Rousseau, when your team got sick," Jack began. Juliet regretted letting him have his head. Men have no ability to lead into a conversation.

She narrowed her eyes slightly. Jack persisted. "What were the symptoms? What happened to them?"

A light pause before she answered. "It started with a fever. Mennard was the first to get it. We all thought... it was nothing. That he would have recovered in a day or two. But he didn't. Several others grew feverish. Mennard was delirious. His skin blistered, and on the fifth day, he died."

"And then..." Jack hesitated. He didn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. Whatever the sickness was, it wasn't what Kate had. That was probably a good thing, but it didn't get him any closer to helping her.

"Shawna was next to die. After four had died, I knew it would only keep spreading."

"So that's when you decided to kill them?"

Something in her eyes flickered. Jack noticed it, but didn't press it.

"We decided as a group. That should anyone show symptoms, they would be killed. It was best for the group. But then, when Dumont grew ill, his sister refused to take part. She tried to take care of him. I knew that unless action was taken, we would all die, slowly, horribly."

"But it didn't work," Jack prompted. Danielle looked away, and for an instant, he thought her eyes might have moistened. When she looked back at him, there was no sign of it.

"I was pregnant, expecting within the next few weeks. And then, Robert grew sick. I had thought they were hypocrites, refusing to make sacrifices for our own survival. But I... I couldn't. I wondered if I'd been wrong. If, with enough care, he would recover."

Juliet was staring sorrowfully at her. She had never seen anything like the Sickness that Rousseau was describing, and she hoped she never had to. She had thought that the dying pregnant women – a problem she still hadn't managed to solve, or even make any headway on – was tragic. This was abominable. A whole group of people, dead.

"Eventually, Robert and I were the only ones left. I could barely walk, because of the baby. And then... he recovered. Overnight, his fever broke, and the blisters faded. I had thought him only minutes from death.

"I was still carrying the rifle with me. There were many savage animals around. Robert started talking of... of just him and me. Living here, together, with the baby. I didn't think we had a choice, so I tried to make him happy.

"The something else happened. He grew angry, scared, all at once. He seemed so close to violence. I removed the firing pin from his rifle. He confronted me shortly afterwards, and he pulled the trigger.

"I fired at the same time. Only one gun went off. I went into labour at the same time."

"You delivered the baby yourself?" Juliet asked, surprised. She hadn't known that.

"Yes. I was exhausted. Fortunately, it was an easy birth. My first. Robert had made the child a cradle in the last week, and I laid her in there. I knew I needed to sleep. I promised myself only an hour... when I woke, I heard whispers. And the child was gone."

"Alex," Juliet whispered. Danielle lifted her eyes to meet the other woman's.

"Is she happy? With your people?"

Juliet considered. "She'd rebellious. Intelligent. She has a boyfriend," she added, and saw Danielle smile, just a little. "Until I met Jack, and his people, and joined them... I'd never known Alex had been stolen."

For a moment, understanding flashed between them. It was enough. Jack cleared his throat. As touching as it may be, they weren't here to discuss Alex. And he was beginning to feel as if he had a lead.

"Do you think your people may be sick, Jack?" Rousseau asked. He shook his head.

"No. I wondered. But what you said... the symptoms are different. This is... have you ever heard of someone on the island being possessed?"

He blurted out the last bit a little too quickly. Danielle gazed at him levelly.

"No."

"Please, Danielle... what happened to Robert. You said he changed. Don't you think..."

"No."

Jack was taken aback. Her refusals were harsh and obviously intended to ward off further questions.

"It's Kate," he whispered. Rousseau nodded, allowing him to continue. "Something's wrong. She... she changed. I didn't even notice until last week, and then I found out... she killed two men. It was like something else was controlling her."

"I don't know anything about that," Rousseau said. Jack waited for her to meet his eyes. She did so eventually, her eyes stubbornly holding back any information. He sighed, and stood up, as if to leave. He turned back for an instant.

"Danielle... I thought you'd want to know. One of the men killed was Sayid."

Shock was clear on her face. Jack felt empowered and guilty, knowing he'd hurt her, in some odd way. He wondered what had transpired between Sayid and herself, way back when, but then pushed the thought aside. It didn't matter now.

"Please, Danielle, whatever you know, I need it... I need to know what is going on. I need to stop it."

"Stop it? You can't stop it," she said suddenly, her hands clenching. She caught Jack looking at them and slowly unfurled her fingers, letting them rest in her lap. She took a breath.

"Kate, you friend, has she been close to death recently?" she asked. Jack was about to say no – then he caught himself.

"Well, not recently. But a month or so ago, the smoke monster... the security system... it attacked her. She was dying."

"You, as a doctor, knew she was dying," Rousseau stated. He nodded, trying not to think about that night. About the waiting, the inevitability. "How did you feel when she woke up, alive? Healing?"

"Thrilled," Jack admitted. "It was a miracle."

Rousseau smiled thinly.

"Yes, Jack. A miracle."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Jack cleared his throat again.

"So, why do you think it can't be stopped?"

Danielle met his eyes again.

"I did not say that it could not be stopped. Merely that you could not stop it." Jack opened his mouth, but Rousseau cut him off. "The only way to stop her from killing every person it your camp, Jack, is to kill her. Like I killed Robert, to protect myself and my unborn child. Do what every living thing must do – kill to survive.


	28. Chapter 28

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: Take two steps backwards. Close your eyes. Turn around in four perfect circles and go three steps forward, one right, and two more forward. There you will find the real creators of Lost – what? You hit a tree? Oh, gosh, I'm sorry! You can open your eyes now.  
Summary: After an encounter with Cerberus leaves Kate injured and alone, she makes a deal with something she really shouldn't...  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... it is now getting darker, and (many) character deaths are guaranteed.

A/N – I'm such a bad, bad, writer. Didn't update very quickly. Deepest apologies. Look! Special angst chapter just to show how sorry I am. I don't know how good the angst is, this damn writer's block... I know what's in the next chapter, so it shouldn't take long. Guesses for next victim? You don't have long – Muahahaha! I know exactly how it will play out. The fun part of this job is working out inventive new ways of killing people.

Want to know what Jin speaking fluent English sounds like? Just look at Alex (played by Daniel Dae Kim) in The Cave (or one of the other movie's he's starred in, The Cave's a personal favourite). It's actually rather disconcerting.

* * *

**Chapter twenty-eight**

Less than twenty four hours later, Juliet was walking back onto the beach. She had pressured Jack into moving fast to get back, not sure why, but her gut was telling her she really shouldn't have left. And she knew from past experience that her gut was usually right.

There was a blur from the corner of her eye. She turned, and before she had time to register what was happening, she was being pushed backwards by an unknown assailant. Then she wondered if her brain was working properly – someone was yelling (at her, she guessed) but she couldn't understand a word of it.

She blinked a few times, and everything made sense. It was Jin, and he was screaming at her in Korean. Desmond and Hurley were holding him back – just.

And the forbidding feeling in her gut came screaming back to her. Sun. How could she have forgotten Sun?

Jin seemed to realise that she couldn't understand him, but that she had guessed what had happened. His English had much improved, but he reverted to Korean whenever angry or upset. He cursed in Korean, too, which had amused some people no end, and in return they learnt a few Korean insults as well. He drew in a deep, shaky breath.

"My wife... is dead," he said, having to pause to suck in more air over his grief. "And you... were not here... to save her."

"I'm sorry," Juliet whispered, knowing how empty those words were. How hollow and worthless, how little they would mean. She shouldn't have left.

There was no sound on the beach except the muted roar of the ocean. Guilt was hitting her even though in every other instance she hadn't been able to do anything. If she had stayed there was nothing she could have done. But she could have tried. Sun had been fighting hard, had made it so long. For a while, she had let herself hope.

For a moment, she wondered if Jin would continue his attack. Part of her wanted him to. The part of her that didn't enjoy getting beaten up was hoping the men on either side would stop him. They looked like they were ready to, but Jin didn't move. He looked helpless, lost, almost resigned.

In every other case, someone else had been there to spare her the emotional heartbreak of the husband and friends. Never before had she felt this much pain around her, inside her. She felt her own heart, all that was left of her innocence (even though that wasn't much) shatter, and crumble into the void that had been reopened by Death.

* * *

After the initial shock, Juliet allowed herself to cry. She sat in her tent and cried. She didn't notice Jack come in, and only realised he was there when he rested a hand on her shoulder. She didn't need to say anything, and he didn't let her. He just pulled her close while her body shook with contained sobs. Then he said something that surprised her.

"This is my fault," he admitted guiltily. Holding back her emotions, Juliet touched his face gingerly.

"No, it's not," she reassured him. "How could you possibly –"

"I left. I didn't tell anyone where I was going. You came looking for me. If I hadn't left, if I'd just... at least one of us would have been here..."

Juliet's stomach flipped uncertainly. No. That wasn't why she had gone – this was her fault. Her fault she hadn't been here, her fault Jack felt guilty. For an instant, she hovered close to telling him the truth, that it wasn't his fault. But then she shied away. Guilty Jack was better than Angry and Still Guilty Jack.

* * *

Juliet sat in her tent long after Jack left, her head buried somewhere between her knees. If she'd bothered to think about it, she might realise she looked a lot like an ostrich, but that wasn't where her train of thought was flowing.

She was thinking about how she could have stopped this. If she'd made Sun understand exactly what was at stake, made her realise just how final this would be, she might have been able to do something. Sun was a herbwoman, and probably had a dozen things in her garden which could have made her lose the baby. But Juliet had made promises, assurances. That she'd do whatever she could. She'd look out for her. She figure something out.

She'd made a promise, a vow to protect – and failed. She had come to regard Sun as a friend – someone intelligent, modest, and easy to talk to. Now she was grieving for someone who was – had been – more than yet another dead patient.

She heard Jack outside, talking to a few people. Probably explaining where they had gone and why. There was a pause, raised voices. Whatever he'd said, they didn't like it. Then she clearly heard him yell, "Two men are dead!"

"And so is a woman," someone said.

"And another will be soon," the second person muttered darkly.

Juliet lifted her head. Her? Was he talking about her? She felt drunk. Too out of it to identify the voice, to think about whether someone had just threatened her.

Jack had continued walking past and the only answer she could hear was a murmur.

No, she realised with a chill. They weren't talking about her. Somehow, in linking her and Jack not being there with Kate, they had come up with their own solution.

Juliet teetered. Should she help Kate, warn her of the hard feelings and threats the people of the camp were harbouring towards her? Or could she just let her head fall back down? That was an inviting idea – just lie down on her pathetic airline-pillow-bed and let sleep wash away her mind.

* * *

Here is where you press reviewy-button-thingy. In case you were lost. Pun intended.


	29. Chapter 29

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: Take two steps backwards. Close your eyes. Turn around in four perfect circles and go three steps forward, one right, and two more forward. There you will find the real creators of Lost – what? You hit a tree? Oh, gosh, I'm sorry! You can open your eyes now.  
Summary: After an encounter with Cerberus leaves Kate injured and alone, she makes a deal with something she really shouldn't...  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... it is now getting darker, and (many) character deaths are guaranteed.

A/N – Hey, another obsenely long chapter! Yay! And I would put money on the fact that no-one knows what's going to happen next. Because I thought of it... ten minutes ago. But, you can try.

Anyway, shout out to my bestest friend ever and co-author (We think of ideas for the story together and then I write them) **Lucy**. Her influence comes out strongly in this chapter... won't spoil it, but it's something I promised a while ago.

**JuliaThorne **- Nope, can't guarantee Jack's safety. I haven't worked out how this will end, so it could be good/bad, happy/angsty, but I assure you there will be a conclusion! ANd no, I don't watch Alias, but the thought has occured to me. I'd rather spend the hour writing more fiction!  
**Tsol** - good to have you on board. Great work with the catch-up! (Hehe, I love your name!)  
**Supersolanea** - can't say yet. But it was a good guess (I'd forgotten all about Jin... now I have to work him in here somewhere.) Thanks for your review.

Please, everyone who's reading. Review. It makes me update faster and write more effectively. Anonymous accepted.

* * *

**Chapter twenty-nine**

Kate woke to spitting rain. This wasn't unusual. It was the sort of rain that arrived a few hours before a big storm. So far, since leaving camp, it had only rained once, and she had had to wander around gloomily for an hour until it stopped. Then she hadn't been able to sleep that night because the ground was always wet.

She was wishing she could have finished packing supplies before leaving. But she had learnt her lesson fully. She wouldn't go back, not again. The mob had probably already burned her tent to the ground in retribution anyway, she thought sourly.

At the moment, she was heading north-west, on the path that had taken her to the barracks so long ago. She would keep going this way until she hit the sonic fence and then – irrespective of whether it was on or off – turn and go a different direction. She was stuck here, though, and the results of that were very clear – there was a limit to how far she could run.

She had wondered briefly whether it would be worth trying to find Locke. After their 'rescue' of Jack he had left with the Others, and even though everyone in their camp had initially felt betrayed, it had turned out to be a good thing. At some point they realised Locke must have gained influence with the Others, become some sort of deputy or assistant leader, because there were no further attacks on their camp and the two peoples lived as if in ignorance of each other.

Kate suspected after a while that Locke might have become Their leader – Juliet had told her that Ben wasn't liked very much anymore, and there might have been a coup. It would explain the peace that had settled, Kate decided, and was able to put the matter out of her mind.

Now, she thought, would it be worth going to Locke? She could ask for help – if he would give it. She was no longer worried about anyone trying to hurt her. Eventually, she decided she would stay away. She wasn't ready to tell him what she had done, what she was going through.

_Good decision_, the voices whispered into her head, almost sympathetically. Kate had tried to ignore them the past few days, and they weren't bothering her as much as they did when she was around other people. Now, she chose to abandon that course. It wouldn't make them go away and it wouldn't get her any answers.

_Why did you let Jack live?_ she asked cautiously.

_He impressed us. And may prove useful._

Shocked by getting such a straight answer, Kate didn't immediately ask another. After a few minutes of silence, shaking off the droplets of rain that were beading on her nose, she continued.

_You won't get another chance to hurt Jack,_ she said confidently. _I'm not going back there. I'm not going near them, ever again._

_You don't have a choice_, they replied harshly, and suddenly Kate felt something flow through her in the same way adrenaline could seemingly pump all around from nowhere. Helpless, she felt her feet turn around, and found herself facing back the way she had come.

A sheet of light rain prickled her face, momentarily obscuring her vision. Then the feeling dissipated, slowly, and when she felt in control again, she determinedly faced northwest again. She took a few shaky steps, and they didn't stop her or argue.

_Why are you waiting?_ she asked. There was no reply, and then there was the sudden clear sighted feeling she got whenever they temporarily left her.

For now, at least, she was free. She kept walking.

* * *

There was a noise behind her. She didn't turn around. Her hearing had improved dramatically – another fabulous power bestowed on her by the mysterious voices, she thought sarcastically. She tried to estimate how far she was from the sonic barrier. Not far. And then she'd have to choose a new direction.

A footstep sounded hesitantly behind her. Yes, Kate thought. She'd guessed right the first time.

"What do you want?" she asked, still not turning. A small intake of breath.

"To find you."

"You think that's safe?" Kate asked wryly.

"Is it?"

"Hell no. At the moment it's okay. But they could come back at any time," Kate replied.

"Who?"

"The voices in my head," Kate said, able to keep a straight face because of the disturbing fact that it was true.

"Well, for a moment I was thinking you weren't as crazy as Jack said."

Finally, Kate turned around. Pale grey eyes met hazel green, and it was Juliet who looked down first.

"Don't talk to me about crazy," Kate said coldly. She began walking away, but talking at the same time, to let the other woman know the conversation wasn't necessarily over. "I've gone through so much crazy I don't think I could possibly have imagined it. I've put crazy on the shelf for now."

"You don't look nearly as mad as Rousseau yet," Juliet added helpfully, keeping pace.

Kate was keen to question her further, wondering if she and Jack had asked the French woman about the sickness or the voices, but Juliet spoke again before she could.

"Anyway, I just thought... I brought you this," she said, pulling the backpack she was carrying off one shoulder and holding it out to Kate. The brunette paused, and the bag hovered in mid air for a moment. Then with an pained but thankful smile, she took the straps. She had learnt a long time ago that it was worth hurting your pride if it meant someone was helping you. Friends were hard to find and harder to keep for a fugitive, and strangers were more often than not the only help she could find.

"Thankyou," Kate said finally, as sincerely as she could. Juliet nodded, understanding. "But promise me something," she continued. "If I tell you to run, or if I look like... I'm scared, or anything – you run. Far from here, away from me. And don't come back."

For a moment, it looked like Juliet would argue, but then she closed her mouth and nodded reluctantly. Kate pressed harder, knowing the idea hadn't fully sunk in.

"Juliet, please. If they come back and you're still here, they – I – will kill you. I can't stop them. I have tried... so hard... but I can't stop them."

Juliet nodded again, more worriedly this time.

"So what Sayid said... you're possessed?" Juliet asked hesitantly. Kate looked at her sideways.

"Possessed... I hadn't thought of it like that. But yeah. And Sayid, is he..."

"He's dead," Juliet confirmed. Kate turned away for a moment, shutting her eyes with a sigh, as if she'd known it would be too good to be true for him to be alive. Neither of them said anything for a while.

"How's everyone else?" Kate asked at last. She was looking for a positive answer, but from Juliet's hesitation, knew it couldn't be good. "Tell me," she demanded when the blonde still didn't answer.

"It's Sun," Juliet whispered. Kate sucked in a breath, as Juliet continued. "There was nothing I could do. The pregnancy turned on her."

"She's dead?" Kate asked. Juliet nodded her confirmation. She realised there was nothing to be gained from saying she wasn't at camp when it happened, except to increase Kate's sense of guilt. She searched for something positive to say.

"But uh... everyone else is fine," she said. Her mind scrabbled for more words. "So where are you going? Anywhere in particular?"

"Yeah. The sonic fence," Kate replied.

"What are you planning on doing when you get there?" Juliet asked, a little alarmed.

"Turning around and going somewhere else."

"Oh. Sounds boring," Juliet said, then realised it was a stupid thing to say. She shook her head slightly, remembering the reason she was there. "There was another pallet drop. And I..."

She reached over and tugged open the zipper on the pack Kate was holding. She searched for a minute before pulling out a plastic box. She pulled the lid off, revealing four muffins wrapped in Dharma plastic.

"I um... I didn't make them myself, so they're probably not too bad," she said, pushing through an awkward silence.

Kate just stared for a minute. It seemed too unreal – had Juliet just hiked out into the jungle to find the psychotic possessed murderess to give her blueberry muffins? She could have gone further, such as the fact that those muffins came from a pallet dropped from the sky by a company that didn't realise it no longer existed, but she decided that would only complicate matters.

"Thanks," she said eventually. She searched for something else to say, but noticed that once again Juliet looked as though she was holding something back.

Then, on impulse, she reached her mind forward – it was a difficult concept to think about without moving her body or head, but it was easier than she would have expected. Probably because she'd done it before. She could hear Juliet's thoughts.

_Tell her. She needs to know. You came out here to tell her, so stop stalling and do it!_

Kate managed not to fall over with the shock, and instantly pulled away. Of course she'd done it before, but only when the voices had been there, doing it for her. Then she tried to work out what to do with the information she'd just gleaned.

"You better leave," Kate blurted out, realising as she said it how callous it sounded. "I mean, it's great to see you. And I'm really grateful for this. But they've been gone a couple of hours and they could come back at any moment. I don't want you getting hurt. That's why I'm out here. I don't want anyone else to get hurt."

"Oh, okay," Juliet said. "You're right. But there's one more thing." She paused, and Kate waited as patiently as she could. Somehow, the fore-statement wasn't as innocent as it should have been, and Kate could feel more bad news coming. "I heard some of the guys at camp talking. They're thinking that you're..."

"They're coming after me," Kate stated. Juliet nodded. "You have to stop them. Because if they find me, they'll probably end up dead. I'll kill them."

"Right," Juliet agreed. "I'll try. But..."

"No-one knows you're here, do they?" Kate asked, suppressing an ironic smile.

"Well, no, he doesn't, but that's not it," Juliet muttered. They both knew that 'no-one' referred to only one person.

"They already left, Kate. I left shortly after, hoping I could find you first."

Kate nodded. As if one cue, a twig snapped nearby. She tensed immediately, and Juliet looked around warily.

"Did you hear something?" she asked. Kate nodded.

"Don't ask why but my hearing is a lot better these days. That was a footstep."

"Belonging to who? Wait, was that how you recognised me?"

"I don't know, and yes."

Warily eyeing the thick jungle around them, Juliet started slightly when another twig snapped, much closer. Kate bolted.


	30. Chapter 30

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: Take two steps backwards. Close your eyes. Turn around in four perfect circles and go three steps forward, one right, and two more forward. There you will find the real creators of Lost – what? You hit a tree? Oh, gosh, I'm sorry! You can open your eyes now.  
Summary: After an encounter with Cerberus leaves Kate injured and alone, she makes a deal with something she really shouldn't...  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... it is now getting darker, and (many) character deaths are guaranteed.

A/N – Now, I'm bringing Ben into the story. But I've never been good at writing him, so reviews would be helpful. As well as nice.

* * *

**Chapter thirty**

"Kate!" Juliet yelled, and tore off after her, but Kate was already out of sight. Juliet pushed harder, picked up speed, feeling her lungs ache and her breath coming in short, dragging gasps. She dodged trees and roots, ducked beneath vines and branches, all the time knowing and understanding that at any point she could trip and break a leg or suddenly reach a cliff and not be able to stop.

The sound of pursuit crashing through the jungle behind her convinced her to continue her reckless dash. She was fast running out of strength, though. She came to a clearing, leaped over a stream, noted that the water beneath was still rippling from Kate's step. She wasn't far behind, but the other woman seemed to have incredible endurance, and Juliet felt herself floundering. She wasn't an athlete. She was a pretty decent swimmer, but running had never been her forte.

She slowed for a minute, but kept jogging, and a moment after she passed it realised that she had recognised a landscape. She was tempted to stop and check, but didn't.

She knew where they were. With a sinking feeling she didn't quite understand, she knew that Kate knew, too.

* * *

Ben was still fuming. Well, his fury had settled into a constant ache in the pit of his gut over the past few months. He had invited John Locke into HIS camp, hoping for help, maybe advice. And Locke made him look good. He had never expected this – that the man would take over his people, their adoration would buoy him up, and that he, Ben, would be reduced to second in command. And that was a title only. Really, he was no more than a servant these days, to the whims of John Locke. Not even Jacob would talk to him.

This was just the beginning of his mental tirade. Would anyone notice if he went missing? He decided it might be worth experimenting. Either they'd realise they really did need him, or it would be the final straw and he could just leave. Things weren't really fun there anymore anyway, hadn't been since Juliet's betrayal. Not just because security had tightened, because every action had to be passed through a senior member.

But because he missed her. Back in the day, when he'd been the leader, his people had called it a crush, which was perfectly acceptable. He'd called it what it was – an obsession. And to him, that was perfectly fine. It gave him something to look forward to. Something to focus his mind on each night. And his mind had always needed something to gnaw on – he couldn't shut it off, and he felt crazed if he didn't have anything to think about.

Back then he could repeat every conversation with Juliet over and over to himself, looking for hidden nuances, anything that might suggest she felt the same way about him. She was his. And once he could admit that to himself, he realised it didn't care how she felt. So long as he could have her near, see her smile, it would be enough. He hoped.

But then she had destroyed all that, hadn't she? To him, her deference was simply her own escape from him. For a while, he'd thought – believed – that he could get her back. But then Locke had taken over, and had convinced them all – against Ben's plans and preparations – that it was best to leave the rest of the survivors alone.

And these bitter thoughts were all that had accompanied Ben for the last four months or so. These were what went through his mind at night. He could think to himself, _I hate her. I hate her, so much, so much, and if I ever see that lying bitch again I'll kill her._

He would think that, and if someone had (bothered to) ask him, that's what he would have said. But in truth, he would have given everything to have her back. To hold her. Keep her with him. Though killing her had merit, too.

He forced his mind away from Juliet. He thought he heard a crackling, and checked the walkie-talkie on his hip. No sound, but it was still working. No-one was looking for him. Nobody was missing him. No-one thought he could be in trouble, even though he'd been gone for hours longer than he should have been. Hah! To think there was someone dictating how long he 'should' be out.

He stepped out into a patch of sunlight. A noise caught his ear, and he turned his head slightly. He couldn't see anything. Frowning, he continued to walk moodily through the jungle. He blinked in surprise when he realised he'd reach the fence. Odd. He hadn't meant to come here.

His heart swelled with hope. This was where the island had first spoken to him. He hadn't mean to come here then, either. A sign? He prayed that it was so. Something to get him his position back. Excited now, he jumped forward, disabled the fence and crossed to the other side.

He heard the crackling sound again, but this time it sounded more like crashing. He tensed, wondering if it was the security system. No. It was someone running. Possibly several people, he reasoned. And there was only one group of people on this side of the fence. Under Locke's rule, no-one could interfere with the plane crash group – which consisted mostly of crash survivors but partly of wildcards like Desmond, Juliet, and the French woman, Alex's mother.

But was it interfering if they ran out at him?

* * *

Kate felt them sink back into her while she was running.

_Where _are_ you going?_

_This way_, she responded as sarcastically as she could. She had two objectives now – to protect her pursuers by separating herself from them, and to test the extent of her seeming immortality.

The idea scared her, but she kept running.

It seemed only moments after that she burst out of the jungle and was running uphill, towards a gap between the pylons. She realised that whoever was chasing her – at least two others, Juliet probably included – was fast and a decent runner. Kate couldn't feel the burn in her lungs, but she had to be at the limit of human perseverance.

_Not a good idea,_ they remarked. Kate felt her gut start to freeze over with dread.

Not giving herself time to think about it, she ducked her head and ran between through the fence. Her skin prickled, and she suddenly felt hot all over. There was an almost imperceptible sound, the sound of energy particles slamming into her and she knew that if it wasn't for the pain block she would definitely be screaming.

That's when she realised – even though she was through the fence, past the actual pylons, her skin was still itching and the skin was still peeling. She felt a simmering, as though her organs were melting, and she understood then – she wasn't invincible. She was dying.

* * *

Ben frowned. Surely not... it was Kate, running out of the jungle and towards the fence as if the hounds of Hell were snapping at her heels. He could hear more sounds in the jungle, and could guess she was being followed, but by whom?

His curiosity died in his throat when he saw what she was aiming for. She wasn't stupid enough to do that, was she? he wondered. But she kept going, and then she passed through it. Maybe she thought it was off, he mused. She was about to be unpleasantly surprised. But... she didn't seem to be falling to the ground, writhing about in agony. Ben blinked. Had he remembered to turn it back on when he came through? Surely he had. He'd be in serious trouble if anyone found out he hadn't.

Then, three more people came running out of the trees. A man, armed with a large hunting knife, a woman with a crossbow slung over one shoulder – and desperately trying to catch up to the two of them, was Juliet.

Ben settled back on his heels, keeping himself out of sight. Who was next? If Juliet and Kate were here, surely the heroic doctor would be around. And he couldn't identify the two others, but he understood the intent on their faces. Murder. Ben almost smiled – even if he wasn't involved, this had to be the most entertaining thing that had happened to him in months. Almost as good as TV.

The two stopped in front of the fence, obviously hesitant. Juliet stopped, too, and Ben sucked in a breath. She looked dishevelled and wild. Ben was keen to stay and watch her, even knowing he wouldn't be given a chance to talk to her – but on the other hand, something about the situation reeked of panic and dread.

From past experience with such situations, Ben knew the smartest thing would be to back off, report the sighting to Locke, and most importantly, to stay away from Juliet. And so he turned his back on the four, and began resolutely walking towards home.

Someone was about to die, probably more than one person, and he wasn't really interested in being there when it happened.


	31. Chapter 31

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: Take two steps backwards. Close your eyes. Turn around in four perfect circles and go three steps forward, one right, and two more forward. There you will find the real creators of Lost – what? You hit a tree? Oh, gosh, I'm sorry! You can open your eyes now.  
Summary: After an encounter with Cerberus leaves Kate injured and alone, she makes a deal with something she really shouldn't...  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... it is now getting darker, and (many) character deaths are guaranteed.

A/N – Here it is. What I've been aiming for since about chapter ten. Good news? Kate's not dead. Though that could also be the bad news. This chapter is... different. I expect flames. Whatever your opinion is, don't be afraid to voice it.

**LostSista** - Nice idea, the purging of evil voices. But... I still have a grudge against some characters.

* * *

**Chapter thirty-one**

Kate felt the feeling slowly dissipate. She looked down. Blisters, which had appeared on her skin when she ran through the fence, were rapidly flattening and then disappearing. She was alive. And for a moment, she was ecstatic. Truly, nothing could hurt her.

_Not nothing_, they whispered, but she ignored them.

Out of the trees burst three people. Kate flinched a little. Damn them.

_Are you going to kill them, too?_ Kate asked.

_Maybe not. No need, just yet. But Kate, if you want them to live a little longer, you're going to have to do something._

_What? Why? Do what?_ she asked, confused and scared.

_You can stop her dying._

And then they were gone. It was unsettling. Kate watched as the male figure approached, recognising him with a start. His name was Simon – and the woman with him was his on-island girlfriend (apparently he had a wife and two young kids back home), Carla. She'd taken the cross-bow idea off Danielle, and was a very good shot with it.

Simon stopped before the fence, and Kate couldn't stop herself from smiling.

"I would advise not coming any closer," she said. They couldn't be more than five metres apart, but Kate knew it may as well have been fifty.

"You're bluffing," Simon replied icily. He'd never been a nice person, but he usually kept out of people's way, and so escaped the whiplash associated with being a total dick. Kate wasn't surprised he was one of the ones looking to bring her down now. "The fence is off."

"How do you know that?" Kate asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Because you're over there," he replied. Kate couldn't help but appreciate his logic. At the same time it was pissing her off.

"Is the fence the only danger?" she asked, holding eye contact. He looked away.

"Kate, no!" Juliet called. Kate's eyes shifted to her.

"I'm sorry," she said. "This is what's best."

"How? You're running away again, Kate, and –"

Juliet was cut off by the sound of Carla firing a bolt, through the fence towards Kate. For half a second, they all watched in wretched anticipation, until the arrow stopped in mid air.

Kate was holding it in one hand. Juliet took a few steps closer so that she was alongside Simon and Carla, her mouth open in surprise. Kate slowly opened her hand, letting the bolt fall harmlessly to the ground. She kept her eyes open and trained on the three opposite her in case Carla fired another. She needn't have worried. In her shock, the woman had dropped the bow.

"If the fence is turned on, then why didn't it stop the arrow?" Simon asked. He sounded extremely confident, Kate noted. Much more than he should be.

"It wouldn't," Juliet said. "It wouldn't stop a person, either. Just kill them."

"She doesn't look dead," Carla muttered. Simon twitched slightly, and Kate returned her attention to him.

"If you really think it's off, then go. Try it." He didn't move. She smiled again, satisfied this time. "I knew you wouldn't."

"Well, there's another way we can find out if it's on," Simon growled, and before anyone knew what he was doing, he had stepped sideways and put the blade of his hunting knife against Juliet's neck.

"Isn't it wonderful that we all should meet up out here? Because come to think of it, I don't like you either," he said to Juliet. She tensed for a moment, as if weighing up her chances of dodging, but he wrapped a large hand around her neck.

"Is. It. On?" Simon asked Kate. She narrowed her eyes.

"Yes, it is," Kate said cautiously. She knew he had a temper and was regarded as a loose cannon occasionally, so she would have to be careful here.

"So why didn't it hurt you?" She swallowed.

"I turned it off, then back on," she said.

"You didn't have time," he said. "You're lying."

"Do you really want to test that?" Kate asked, hoping that self-preservation would once again persuade him to back off. She was horrified when he smiled slightly.

"Sure I do," he said as casually as was possible, and then pushed Juliet forward.

"No!" Kate yelled, as Juliet staggered in between two pylons. Her eyes met Kate's for a second, and Kate suddenly remembered what the voices had said before they left. _You can stop her dying._

How? She didn't have time to think. She just focused everything she could, everything she knew, on Juliet, and tried to remember the feeling evoked when the voices had used her to push Jack away last week.

There was a second in which Kate could hear the fence humming, and then Juliet was thrown backwards. She landed at the bottom of the hill, and didn't move. Kate felt her throat close. She hadn't meant to do _that_.

"Juliet?" she whispered. Simon had taken several steps backwards, obviously thinking it was the fence that had caused Juliet to be flung aside. Carla seemed torn between reaching for the crossbow again and running full speed the other direction. After a second's silence, she went for the bow.

_Nicely done_, Kate heard. She jumped slightly. She hadn't felt them come back.

_I hurt her_, she replied in horror. She expected them to be happy about that, or say something sarcastic.

_She'll be fine_, they said, and Kate was surprised, as well as curious. They either sensed it or just knew that she'd want to know more. _The fence wasn't on full power, and people have survived bigger falls than that._

_How do you know it's not on full power?_ Kate asked.

_Because if it was, you'd be dead._

Her stomach clenching slightly, Kate returned her gaze to the two people still conscious and watching her. Had it looked like she just spaced out? That wouldn't help her I'm-not-crazy enterprise.

_What about them?_ she asked. She didn't know what to do.

_They came after you. They were going to try and hurt you. They hate you..._

_Kill them._

This time, it was not a command. They didn't take over her body and make her do anything. It was a suggestion, and Kate couldn't help but appreciate it. They hated her. If they got the chance, they'd kill her. And she probably wasn't as immortal as she had began to think.

_How?_ she asked shakily. They didn't say anything – but she could feel one of them tap into her new power. She realised a second before it happened that she was fully capable of stopping this, of doing what she had intended when she had left camp and save a life instead of taking it.

But she was a survivor, and what they had said was true. It was them or her, now. Far too late to go back.

And so Kate let them do it, and when Carla crumpled to the ground, one hand still holding her crossbow, she didn't feel anything. She wasn't upset or angry or sympathetic in the slightest. She just didn't care.

Simon saw Carla fall, smoothly as all the life was instantly pulled from her. He ran forward, concern replacing the smug smile he'd been wearing for most of the confrontation. The voices pulled away, and Kate took control once more.

Instead of killing him effortlessly like they had with Carla, she wanted to be inventive. First, she stopped him from moving. His eyes were still darting around uncertainly, as his body came to a sudden stop, mid-step. Panic shone through the whites of his eyes.

And Kate pulled him towards her. It didn't take much concentration at all. She just had to think, _this way_, and he began to walk towards her. Then, as if snapping out of his shock, she felt him fighting her. He strained at his muscles, pulling desperately against the inclination to continue walking. For an instant she let him pause, and he used the chance to speak.

"Who are you?" he whispered, his eyes darting around, noting the proximity of the pylons and the cold expression on Kate's face.

"I am..." she started, but didn't know how to finish the sentence. With a final jerk, he was pulled into the danger zone. She held him still as his eyes screamed (because his mouth couldn't) and kept him there until the final spot of life faded from his body.

I am not the prey, she told herself. Then, seeing how her hands were shaking, she repeated it. Again. Again.

Kill to survive.


	32. Chapter 32

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: I don't own Lost but I'm using the characters anyway – what are you gonna do about it? It's not like anyone reads this.  
Summary: After an encounter with Cerberus leaves Kate injured and alone, she makes a deal with something she really shouldn't...  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... it is now getting darker, and (many) character deaths are guaranteed.

A/N – Wow. I don't know if I'm allowed to do this, but I'm using the "my-computer-stuffed-up" excuse for the second time. I'm writing this chapter and posting on a friend's computer, so that you all know what the delay is. I hope to have it fixed ASAP (ummm... a week?). Not to mention my English essay.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-two**

She had no idea where she was, but Juliet didn't open her eyes immediately. She used the method that had stood by her for most of her life – lie still. Relax. Remember. She'd been nine the first time she'd done something similar – she'd gone to stay with her Auntie Sue, and in the middle of her first night in a strange bed, had woken to find herself surrounded by complete darkness. She hadn't been able to think, until she relaxed. For a young girl, it was a tremendous discovery.

Slowly the memories rose, and Juliet waited patiently. Sun. Jack. Kate. The fence. Kate catching the arrow. Simon pushing her, Juliet, into the fence. Then nothing. Pain, blackness.

Now she opened her eyes. Nothing but blackness. The panic rose again, very slightly. She remembered that dark bedroom and a light switch. It was night, that was all. But something didn't feel right. She should be able to see stars. Hear something.

Her next thought was mostly irrational, but not entirely._ Oh, God, I'm dead._ She tried to put a hand out to feel around her, see if there was anything at all to give her a clue, but something held her back.

Snapping into full consciousness, she realised that the something was rope. She froze. Adrenaline surged, and she flexed her fingers experimentally. Her hands were each tied to something metal, not together, behind her head. She pulled experimentally. Tight. Her fingers scrabbled for the knots, but couldn't find anything. The metal was cold. She hadn't been here long, then.

She tested her legs. She could move them. She opened her mouth, and close it again. No gag. She couldn't tell anything further without looking around, and the darkness here was complete.

As if hearing her thoughts, a light snapped on. The suddenness hurt her eyes, and she turned away. Squinting, she turned to face her captor. All of a sudden, she pieced it together and wondered why she hadn't guessed before. Ben.

"Hello Juliet," he said calmly. She weighed up the pros and cons of spitting in his face. The cons won.

"What do you want?" she asked. Surely not revenge. It had been too long. He held up a hand.

"I just want to talk to you. I've missed you." He came forward, and she realised she was sitting on a chair, with her hands tied to metal poles. Water pipes, she thought vaguely. But where was she?

"Generally when people are talking, one of them isn't tied up," she hinted. He smiled, the real smile she had only ever seen him use when he was talking to her.

"Would you have agreed to a chat otherwise?"

"I still haven't agreed to this," she said harshly.

"You're talking," he pointed out. She sighed.

"Okay, let's talk. Untie me first," she said as politely as she could. Unfortunately, she couldn't hide the challenge in her eyes.

"I don't think so," he said, tracing her cheek with one finger.

"I hated you for awhile, you know," he said vaguely, almost as if he wasn't talking to her. "I think I wanted to kill you. But not anymore. I think we can get back what we had before."

"We never had _anything_," she spat, hoping his hand would come a little lower so she could bite it off. She twisted her head away, but he didn't notice. His hand flopped away, and she looked back at him.

"I can see now that what you did, why you left me, it was my fault. It was your way of showing me that there was something wrong, with _us_, that I couldn't even see."

_Oh God_, Juliet thought again. He's gone crazy. He's rationalising everything.

"Ben, it was never about us, or you, or me. Well, maybe you were involved, but –"

"I've never been a romantic, Juliet," he continued, and now she was sure he wasn't listening to her. She kept talking, hoping something would penetrate.

"Ben, we never had anything. I don't feel anything for you."

"But then maybe that's what you were looking for. And I kept missing the signs. No wonder you did something so drastic. Because you've never been good with words, with explaining how you feel."

"You're doing this the wrong way."

"Now, Juliet, we are alone. We can do whatever we want, and no-one will hear us," he whispered in her ear. Her protestations faded on her tongue.

"You've always been mine," he said, trying to look her in the eyes, but not for the fact that she kept turning her head away. "But now, I'm yours."

She yanked her hands several times, feeling a sliver of real fear. Fear of what he would do to her, _where no-one would hear_. She struck out with one foot, though not really trying to hurt him. He was the only one who could untie her, after all. He was obviously thinking the same thing, because he stepped away, snapping back into the Ben she knew so well.

"You always did like Stephen King, didn't you?" he asked with another smile, only this time it was closer to a sneer. He crossed the room, and closed the door, flicking the light switch on the way out and leaving her entirely in darkness once again.

* * *

Rreference there to Stephen King's book _Gerald's Game._ Essentially, a woman handcuffed to a bed. Good book. I read it after Juliet got me into a Stephen King phase.


	33. Chapter 33

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: I don't own Lost but I'm using the characters anyway – what are you gonna do about it? It's not like anyone reads this.  
Summary: After an encounter with Cerberus leaves Kate injured and alone, she makes a deal with something she really shouldn't...  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... it is now getting darker, and (many) character deaths are guaranteed.

A/N – You know, computer troubles doesn't translate to 'don't bother to review'. And I know I have an English essay due. But I can't find my notes, so what better way to waste my time than writing more of my fanfic? And if anyone can think of any characters I've somehow forgotten, please tell me, cause I'm aiming for ensemble cast here. Not Locke, though. I know of Locke, and have never liked him. So he doesn't get to be in my story.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-three  
**Kate found the console used to turn the fence on and off before going back through. Running through it certainly hadn't been good for her, and she wasn't going to try it again. She paused, not knowing the combination, but then she had an idea. Her odd powers were coming naturally to her now, as if the scene a few minutes ago had pulled the plug that had hidden them from her.

With a thought, the number pad ripped away, and around her she heard the fence powering down. Confidently, she stepped through, checking her skin as she did so. No blistering. Good.

She tightened the straps on the backpack Juliet had given her. Well, at least now she had some supplies. And some muffins. She snorted slightly. A nice thought, but hardly practical. She didn't go back to check on Juliet – the voices had said she was fine, and no matter what else they were doing, they didn't lie to her.

Kate headed south, following the line of the fence for a while. A few hours later she swung east, thinking of making her way to the coast. She missed the ocean. As she walked, she wondered about her abilities. She checked off on her fingers what she already knew.

"No pain. Whatsoever," she said, holding up one finger. "Can regenerate. Can read people's thoughts. Can move people with thoughts. Mind can make other things happen."

With all five fingers on her right hand sticking up, she stopped, and looked around her. She focused on a large rock nearby.

_Lift up_, she thought, and the boulder rose smoothly. At first, her amazement stopped her from sensing something else – she was feeling more and more tired by the second. Her concentration broken, the rock fell, making the ground shudder on impact. Her head ached, the same way her muscles would have ached if she had lifted it with her hands.

Undeterred, she wondered what else she could do. She looked at a nearby tree, a young sapling a little over her height. She imagined it breaking, cracking and falling, and had to jump backwards as the leaves landed where her feet had been a second ago.

Slightly amused, she smiled. She studied the prone tree, its growth stopped by her mysterious abilities. The power no longer scared her. In fact, it made her feel stronger. Unafraid – the first time in over a month that she hadn't been scared, either for herself or someone else. Now she wanted the tree to live again – to lift up and settle back on the scarred stump, for the leaves to continue their search up and out.

Nothing happened. She frowned, irritated, and thought harder. The branches didn't so much as twitch. Her mind shifted darkly, and suddenly the entire thing burst into a crackling fire. The leaves crinkled, twisted, and blackened until they were nothing more than ash. But even after the tree had been consumed, the fire didn't stop. It smouldered angrily for a moment, before leaping to a tree still standing nearby.

Not wanting to start a raging wildfire, Kate quickly damped the flames with a mental nudge. She walked away from the site on trembling legs. Well, she had proven something – wherever it came from, her power was meant only for destruction.

* * *

Jack could only watch as the arguments grew wilder and more frustrated. He rarely stepped in these days. Ever since Kate had left, since he'd been injured, he didn't feel the pull he usually did, the one that encouraged him to come forward and be for the group. He'd kept it together for a while, hadn't let on that anything was wrong.

But now Juliet was gone, too. Either she would have pushed Charlie and Claire apart, or she would have bullied him into doing it. That was his responsibility, right? To be the courageous leader. To be perfect. To never let up. To never let the aching sorrow shine through.

The fights were also becoming more regular, and not just between Charlie and Claire. Desmond was snapping at anyone who disturbed his sleepless silence, but at least he was restrained enough to never come to blows. Jack was disappointed. He knew the Scotsman had good leadership qualities, and would have appreciated his assistance and companionship.

Jin was only seen in the early hours of the morning. He would take his nets out fishing, haul in and gut the load, and then disappear for hours on end. Jack couldn't help but notice fewer and fewer fish each day, and he didn't know whether it was because Jin didn't have the heart for it or because the ocean was no longer giving its bounty as readily.

With Charlie's constant bad moods, Hurley was no longer the jolly optimist. He had lost a lot of weight since the crash, mostly over the past month. Though as a doctor Jack knew it had to be better for his health, the image didn't really suit him.

Which somehow brought Jack back to the idea of food. Fruit had been getting scarcer with every passing day since they crashed. But now it seemed almost nonexistent unless you travelled several miles from camp.

It seemed the only people immune to the spreading discomfort were Rose and Bernard. He had never seen them argue, ever, and wondered why some couples could do that. Prevent friction by talking. He'd tried that with Sarah, long ago, but she'd never been able to communicate that well. But then, he couldn't talk that well with Juliet, either, so maybe it all came back to him.

Aaron suddenly started crying. The boy, half a year old, was much bigger, and his voice was even louder. Jack sighed in relief. Charlie and Claire both wanted what was best for the little boy, but they were barely able to stand each other any more. Charlie knew that Claire was Aaron's mother, and so she had every right to raise him as she would. And she didn't think it was fair that her son grow up without a father figure, and Aaron would always calm if Charlie held him, so for now she let him live in the next tent, always on hand.

But they're arguments were fierce, and regular. They managed to keep the noise down, however, and tried not to disturb the rest of the camp. Jack loved it in a humourless way, because it meant he didn't have to do anything.

But now he wanted to do something, and it didn't involve the issues at the camp. He could guess where Juliet had gone, and now that he thought about it, that's probably why she had been in the jungle when he had found Rousseau. She had gone after Kate, hadn't she?

Jack had learned his lesson from the last time he left the camp. He wasn't going anywhere, but he didn't particularly want to be around the camp. He retreated into his tent, wondering when – refusing to think _if _– Juliet would be back. He wouldn't even be mad at her. Just so long as she came back.


	34. Chapter 34

**Crimson**

Disclaimer: I don't own Lost but I'm using the characters anyway – what are you gonna do about it? It's not like anyone reads this.  
Summary: After an encounter with Cerberus leaves Kate injured and alone, she makes a deal with something she really shouldn't...  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... it is now getting darker, and (many) character deaths are guaranteed.

A/N – The next lot of chapters may be a bit longer than before. Plot is really taking over now – my aim is to finish on 42 chapters, because 42 is an awesome number. More people will die. I'm not saying who, but there have been hints.

I feel unwanted. Where did some of my beautiful reviewers go? Please, I need your encouragement or I do this and wait four days before writing the new chapter.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-four**

Maybe it was waking up in the middle of the night with no idea where she was that had given Juliet a fear of the dark. Her Aunt Sue didn't believe in leaving the hall light on, and until she relaxed, the darkness had been total, terrifying. It wasn't like being outside at night, where after a few minutes your eyes adjusted and you could see vague shadows and shapes. Juliet cursed silently, as she remembered where she was, and why.

She tested the ropes around her wrists without hope, and so wasn't disappointed when she realised they were as stuck as ever. Why on earth had he turned the light off? Did he know she was afraid of the dark? Psychologically, it was a perfectly reasonable thing, but she still kept it private. Apart from her mother, only her sister knew how much she hated the feeling of being blind.

He probably did, she realised. Ben would know something like that. And so she resolutely promised herself to be unafraid, because it was the opposite of what he wanted her to feel.

She had nothing to distract her from her thoughts. She tried to think logically. Where was she? How could she escape? It had to be underground. Nothing else would create a darkness this... intense. _No_, she thought firmly. _Don't think about the darkness_.

But no matter how she weaved her mind around possibilities, the solution was obvious and unavoidable. _Ben_. He was the problem, and the only escape. He had to untie her before she could do anything, because at present she could barely feel her fingers, let alone untie the knots. She would have to play along for a while, wait until he was off-guard, and then strike. She reminded herself that there could be no mercy.

It had been hours, she was sure. And what had at first been a niggling thought had grown to a pressing, painful need. She really needed to pee. And now her own thoughts were working against her. Ben couldn't forget about her. He wouldn't leave her here, in the dark...

_No!_ she thought fiercely. He wouldn't. So she should be using this time to think how to play him. That would be hard. She'd once read that the motive for any action could fall into one of three categories: greed, love, or revenge. He said he loved her, though she believed it was more of an obsession than an emotion. He wanted her all to himself, too. And revenge was definitely on the table somewhere. She had betrayed him, belittled him.

She sighed slightly. They were the three motives for any _sane_ crime. Mental unbalance was the fourth reason, and now that she thought about it, that probably applied too. And Ben wasn't just some crazy guy – he was a smart, obsessed, and dangerous crazy guy. His motive may not be clear, but she knew that she couldn't let up for a moment. He may even be faking the deranged attitude to make her underestimate him.

She had no further time to think. She heard the door scrape open, the light was turned on, and she winced. It was too bright. Her pupils screamed in protest, and for a few seconds, she could only see an imprint of the room. She blinked angrily, and her Ben swam into sight.

"Hello, Juliet. How are you?"

Several sarcastic retorts sprang to mind, but she found herself unable to say anything. It was probably just as well, considering it wouldn't help her cause to piss him off.

"I brought you something to eat," he said. _Oh goodie_, she thought, noticing the fruit in his hands._ Guava_. "If there's anything else you need, just ask," he said, with a slight smile. She sucked in a breath. The _bastard_ wanted her to ask him. And she was stubborn enough not to. She did, however, have one last ace.

"If you really loved me, you wouldn't have to ask."

* * *

It worked. He untied her, and lead her out the door to a dingy bathroom. She was surprised. The place looked too decrepit to be a Dharma station – unless some sort of attack had happened inside of it. But it had too many facilities to be from anything else. She knew that everything Ben had once controlled had somehow been stolen or scavenged from Dharma, but he had never told her exactly how, and when she thought about it more closely, she decided that she didn't want to know.

He left her alone. Maybe hoping that he would get by giving. After using the small sink to wash herself thoroughly, Juliet took the chance to look around. Sure enough, on one wall was a faded and barely visible Dharma logo. The symbol on the inside was almost similar to that of the Hydra – but not quite. It was too dirty to see properly.

She ran the tap again, and tried washing the bit of wall, but the painted image only blurred a little. Frustrated, she looked around. Could there be a way out from here? An air vent? There was a 

vent, but it was high up, and she was logical enough to know there was no way of getting to it without a proper ladder.

She wasn't looking to escape at this minute – she was looking for a way to escape that could help her later when she had made some sort of plan. Just then there was a knock on the door, a small polite rapping, and she sucked in a quiet breath.

She opened it, and stepped past him. The room she'd been in before was to her left, and just in front and on her right was a closed door. It had a glass panel in the top half, which had a piece of cardboard taped over it, so she couldn't see inside.

"Do I get a guided tour?" she asked, hiding the sarcasm as best she could. Rule number one to surviving with Benjamin Linus – don't antagonise him, and don't pretend that you're smarter than him or know something that he doesn't. It can only cause trouble.

"Of course," he replied, taking a few steps down the hall, waiting for her. He saw her eyes flicker to the covered-up window. "You can look in if you like. But I wouldn't recommend it."

"What's in there?" Juliet asked, eyes narrowed. She couldn't read his expression, which wasn't unusual.

"Dead bodies," he replied, turning away and heading down the hall, towards a room at the end. She hesitated, wondering if he was attempting a sense of humour. He'd tried that before, and had failed. She decided to find out later, and followed.

At the end of the hall was a living area, with the same smudged Dharma symbol on the wall. This time it was a little clearer – like some sort of tree, or flower. _What the hell_, she decided.

"Which station is this?" she asked him. He answered without turning around.

"The Orchid."

"I haven't heard of it before," she said a little coldly. She'd never even heard it mentioned before. Or had she, and just not understood and therefore not noticed?

"I'm not surprised," he said with a snort. "There's nothing much down here. Except –" he nodded his head at the hallway they had come from, and the closed door they had passed. "Them. And they don't make very good company. You sleep here," he said, pointing at a bed. She noticed another nearby, that appeared to have been slept in recently. _So_, she surmised, _he's not interested in me as a woman. Just as a conquest_.

"Are there food supplies in here?" she asked. _Was there going to be any need for him to leave? Or would he be here with her the whole time? Gods. That was a scary thought._

"Some. But no heating, so we can't cook the tinned stuff."

Juliet nodded, and then had to stop herself from slapping her head in anger. She was supposed to be looking for a way out, not entering domestic conversations with Ben. Though casual conversation and seeming to be going along with his plan was really her own choice right now – of course it would seem suspicious if she said, _Alright, Ben, I'll stay. Now where's the exit?_

He seemed to be reading her thoughts – or maybe she hadn't been keeping her face as well shrouded as she used to. Either way, with a jerk of his head, he indicated that she should follow him. She did so, with no little trepidation, and he led her to the end of the corridor. The corridor continued – upwards, in a shaft leading up to a closed hatch. There was a rope ladder trailing down the side.

"When I go out, the ladder won't be in reach. And it would be in your best interests not to try going up there," he said. Juliet repressed a shiver. At least she knew he would be going out. Now the only problem was finding a way for her get out. And sooner rather than later.


	35. Chapter 35

Crimson

Disclaimer: I don't own Lost but I'm using the characters anyway – what are you gonna do about it? It's not like anyone reads this.  
Summary: After an encounter with Cerberus leaves Kate injured and alone, she makes a deal with something she really shouldn't...  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... it is now getting darker, and (many) character deaths are guaranteed.

A/N – Answers – not in Lost style. Aka, you're going to be finding out a hell of a lot in this chapter. Happy reading.

This chapter dedicated to **Supersolanea** for her fantastic reviewing, and for reminding me to get back to Kate.

* * *

Chapter Thirty-five

Kate stepped through a stand of trees, her eyes flicking around her uncertainly. The air felt thick and dangerous, humid, like it does before a storm – but there was not a cloud in sight. It was not unusual to feel a storm in the morning and not have it arrive until afternoon, but this was different. It felt like it was already here, and with every step she took, the feeling intensified.

Suddenly, she stopped, and not because she wanted to. She had no control over the action – one leg was just off the ground, her knee blocked by some invisible barrier. She'd become used to sensing around her with her mind as well as with her eyes, and she tried to 'feel' the barrier. The instant her thoughts touched it, however, her head began to ache horribly. She stepped backwards, confused and a little scared. The headache was awfully close to being painful, a sensation she was completely unprepared for.

She kicked one foot forward, and it stopped mid-air, her ankle feeling jarred. She wasn't sure, but it might have hurt. More than just confused – now angry – Kate glanced around, looking for some explanation. Down on the ground, she noticed a streak of blackness. The ominous feeling she'd had all morning seemed to be coming from here. Crouching down, she tried to finger some of it, but her hand slid away whenever she tried. It looked like nothing more than a line of ash, but she guessed that it was this powder that was keeping her from going forward.

While the question of where she went didn't really bother her, she didn't like the idea that a bit of dirt could hold her back. She grabbed a stick, not a very large one, and poked the blockage with it. It could go no further. Frustrated, she was about to turn away when she noticed, on her right, a tree. Its trunk was growing on her side of the barrier, but several of its branches passed through without worry.

An idea coming in fragments, Kate stood a little way back, and chucked the stick at the barrier – and it sailed through, landing on the ground on the other side. The invisible fence seemed only to keep her out. She suddenly remembered studying witches for a school project once – an event that had seemed very inconsequential to the thirteen year old, now seemed very relevant. One book had said circles of charcoal could be used to protect the sorcerer while she worked her spells – and to stop the magic, one had to break the circle.

Feeling slightly foolish, and banishing the idea of 'magic', Kate wondered how she would be able to break the circle when she couldn't touch it. She grabbed another stick, a larger one this time, and threw it so that it landed on top of the ash. Then she stepped forward, cautiously. Within moments, she found herself inside of the circle, and she gave a contemptuous snort.

She continued forward. Now she was curious – had that barrier been made to keep her especially out? If so, what was in here? She kept up a steady pace, keeping her eyes open for anything unusual. As it happened, the 'unusual' wasn't at all obscure. Her long strides suddenly halted, and she stared. Then she closed her eyes and shrugged slightly. She had voices in her head, and she thought a log cabin in the middle of the jungle was weird? And as much as she wanted to avoid people, her curiosity won out, and she stepped up to the front door.

Slightly at a loss, she stood for a moment, and then knocked. There was a sound inside, and the door swung open, revealing a cosy interior complete with rocking chair, stone fireplace and soft rug. Facing her stood a man.

"Hello," he said, slightly warily. She tried not to stare. He was old, very old – but his eyes appeared incredibly confident, if quite tired. His hair was whitened and thin, and he looked like he hadn't eaten properly in months.

"Hi," Kate said, a little embarrassed. "I was just walking... and I saw your... house."

"You from that plane?" he asked; his voice was as weary as his eyes and just as self-assured. There was no accent that she could detect – maybe English, a hint that it had once been refined, but no longer.

"Yeah," she said. "How do you know about it?" He waved a hand in response, and gestured her inside.

"It came roaring down through the sky. Have to be blind, deaf, and stupid to miss it. And... other people told me about things. Now what's your name?"

"I'm Kate," she said. Gone was the instinct to think up an alias, and she wondered whether it might have been safer to lie. It had been so long since she had been _inside _somewhere, she felt very restricted, without an escape route, and she had to force herself to calm down. She didn't expect him to be able to hurt her.

"Sit down, then, Kate. You thirsty?" he asked, one eyebrow raised. She shook her head. His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied her. Then he shook his head once, and gave a weak smile.

"Excuse my lack of manners. It has been a long time since I have talked to anyone. I'm Jacob," he said. The name meant something, but she couldn't recall what.

"How long have you been here?" she asked curiously, as he sat down opposite her, and ran a hand through his limited hair. He thought about the question.

"Couldn't say exactly... but I'd guess at about... two... hundred... years?"

Kate gaped. He smiled at her expression.

"Girlie, don't think for a moment I don't see Them in you. They've touched you, They own you – you get that look in your eye."

Kate's jaw tightened as she tried to think of something to say. He gave another sad smile.

"But, as they say... takes one to know one," he added, and she suddenly realised what he was saying. The revelation must have showed itself, because he gave a short chuckle. "What? You thought you were the only one? Not likely."

Seeing no sense in denying the undeniable, Kate swallowed, and finally said something. "Do you know who They are?"

He mulled over it for a minute. "Well, not exactly. They don't talk to me much anymore. Used to give me instructions to give to Benjamin, but the past couple of months, there's been very little communication."

Kate noted the use of Ben's name, wondering what part of this he played. Jacob scratched his chin as he wondered about something. Then he clicked his fingers. "It's you, isn't it?" he asked abruptly. Kate blinked in confusion. "They stopped talking to me because They were busy training you, right?" he explained impatiently.

She shrugged, and he snorted contemptuously. "I don't know anything about Them, or what's going on," she said defensively. His gaze studied her for a long minute.

At last he spoke.

"Well, it took me years to work out even the simplest of details, so I'll spare you that and say what I know – which isn't much, mind you." Jacob pressed the ends of long fingers into his temples. "Have you counted Them? The voices?" Kate shook her head. "Well, I have been able to isolate six different personalities. One of them, male, I think, is in charge."

"But, who are They?" Kate asked. Jacob glared at her for a second, and muttered something about impatience, before continuing.

"They are, I am almost certain, dead. Six dead souls who are linked to the earth and refuse to let go. I am assuming that you let Them in during a near-death experience?" Jacob paused only long enough for her to nod. "Because They have power in both their world and this, they are very dangerous. But they cannot physically hurt someone who is here."

"So They get other people to hurt for Them," Kate surmised. Jacob glared at her once again, and she met his gaze.

"Don't interrupt," he snapped. "But yes, that is the general idea. They can cause emotional pain to people, but it is the presence of blood that brings Them closer to regaining life."

"Why not kill everyone all at once?" she asked. "I stayed in my camp, around dozens of people, for weeks before..." She stopped.

Jacob pondered the question. "I don't know that, I don't. But They always were for examining things closely. I guess They wanted to be certain there was no-one there They wanted alive. They're certainly patient. They have been dead for centuries – a few weeks would hardly be any bother to Them."

"And..." Kate swallowed before going on. "How... is it possible to get Them out?"

Jacob laughed, loud and full. Kate noticed he was missing several teeth. "Girl, if it was possible, don't you think I would have done it long ago? Don't you think I would have seen Them in you and kept you as far away from me as possible?"

Kate nodded slowly, resignedly. She hadn't expected anything else. And only then did it occur to her that Jacob could be lying – if They controlled him, controlled what he said, then They could be lying through him to make her lose all hope. Such is the logic of the desperate.

She carefully brushed her mind over his, trying to read his surface thoughts. The instant she touched him, however, his head snapped up, and the washed out eyes burned fiercely.

_Out of my head, Kate._

She pulled back, scared, and, the fire still alight in his face, he raised a hand. She was pushed backwards, and couldn't help but cry aloud as one of her ribs snapped. The pain! Her entire chest was burning, spikes of raw, unshielded agony stripping through her. As suddenly as it had begun, the attack ended. Kate was still in the rough wooden chair, echoes of the pain still running through her nervous system. Released from Jacob's will, her rib slotted back into place, and she sat gasping, watching the decrepit old man with respect and fear.

_And I thought for a moment that my manners had suffered! Is it like all people in this age to be so rude, so to push into places they have no right to be?_

Kate couldn't answer. Not only was she not immortal, she could still be harmed, pain included. It had shocked her, and the sound of Jacob's voice in her head – far more svelte than when he spoke aloud – was an invasion of her privacy, something she had always held close.

_Invasion of privacy? Well, I should think so!_

Kate felt goosebumps rise on her arms, and held back a shiver. Whatever abilities she had discovered in herself, he had them, too.

_And I can use them better._

_Get out!_ she screamed mentally. His mind-voice laughed.

_Make me_, he mocked. But she didn't know how. She focused on pushing him out, but his experience was greater than hers, his ability so much more subtle and in tune with his life.

_I'm going to teach you about privacy, Kate._

Then, flashing before her eyes were moments of her life. Tom, coming closer, kissing her under the mistletoe, two teenagers at a Christmas party. A black mare, running wild and free, only for its legs to crumple as a rifle sounded, the echo in her mind almost as shocking as the shot had been, long ago. Then she saw her hands shaking, holding an old photo, a date scrawled across the back.

_He can see all this!_ she thought, horrified. She redoubled her efforts to get him away from her mind, away from her memories, but she couldn't move, physically or mentally.

_What's your worst memory, Kate?_ he asked. She knew, immediately, what it was, and she desperately tried to shield it from him. He filtered through a few more – the first time she'd been arrested, the day Tom had died, then more recent events, her own finger finding the trigger and shooting Sawyer, her hand pulling the knife from Sayid's belt.

Then, Wayne, stepping into a young girl's bedroom, alcohol on his breath, dirty thoughts in his mind as he moved towards the girl he had to have known was from his own blood.

Kate was no longer just trying to stop Jacob from seeing that night, she herself had no desire to live through it again. With a cry of despair and rage and hate, she jumped backwards, breaking the connection. Her whole body was shaking, and sweat was dripping from every pore. Jacob seemed to be unaffected by the fight. He had energy to spare. After a moment, he spoke.

"We aint enemies in this, kiddo. But we certainly aint allies." He pronounced it al-lies. "No. There is to be none of that, work together nonsense, because in this war, we are pawns and there isn't anything we can do. We can only be killed trying."

"Who are you?" Kate asked, taking a few steps towards the door. Jacob met her eyes for a moment, before turning away.

"My ship crashed here. I had started out the voyage as a mate, but my temper got the best of me and in an argument, I killed one of the sailors. Instead of just killing me, the captain's justice was to lock me up down below, with the slaves."

Kate's eyes widened, as she remembered the Black Rock, and the dead slaves in the hold.

"When the ship ran aground, on the crest of a super-wave, the crew left us down there to rot. We starved, and as I died, I wished for an escape. For me, it was no hardship to accept the help of mysterious strangers, and take my revenge on my surviving shipmates. No mates of mine, they weren't."

Finally, Jacob looked back at Kate. "They saw murder in your heart, and that made you useful to them. They saw the ability to kill and the desire to survive."

Kate nodded numbly, and took another few steps towards the door. His eyes narrowed.

"Yes, I think you had better be off. Neither of us is prepared for company, but one day, if you are alone – and you've learnt you some manners – then swing by. You've got the answers you came looking for, for now."

Kate frowned. "I came here by accident. I wasn't... looking... for anything."

Jacob smiled, wearily. Strangely, she held no grudge against him for his invasive actions. She had, after all, been the first to strike – so to speak.

"If you believe that, then go. It would serve you well to stop denying the truth, the inevitable. Journey on, girlie, and accept. There is nothing you can do to stop them from killing your plane-fellows – except to die yourself."

Kate nodded once more, and fled the cabin, one phrase stuck in her head,

_Kill to survive._


	36. Chapter 36

Crimson

Disclaimer: I don't own Lost but I'm using the characters anyway – what are you gonna do about it? It's not like anyone reads this.  
Summary: After an encounter with Cerberus leaves Kate injured and alone, she makes a deal with something she really shouldn't...  
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... it is now getting darker, and (many) character deaths are guaranteed.

A/N – Okay, what happened? Did some government conspiracy crop up, where all the people who reviewed my stories were suddenly assassinated? I feel so lonely... and depression causes long waits between chapters. (Apologies to the three of you who did review last chap.) I was so uninspired, that this took way too long to write, and I'm still not exactly happy with it. It feels forced. Don't be afraid of hurting my feelings, if that's what you think too.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-six**

Kate stumbled to a halt, her mind still reeling from everything she had just learnt, her hands shaking slightly. She may not have known why she had gone there, but she had certainly found the answers she was looking for.

Walking onwards, her legs shaking, she wondered what the voices would say if they knew she had met Jacob.

_Oh, we don't mind_, one/They said. Finally, Kate was able to hear the difference – they all spoke, but one was louder, slightly out of phase with the others. And it was male.

_Jacob was always a good tool. But he isn't as special as you._

_Why not?_ she asked. The only answer she got was a mental shrug.

_We know what's going to happen next. Just keep in mind – do what we say, and you'll be fine._

Kate didn't reply, but there was a tacit agreement involved.

_You're curious about this island. We could have told you about it. You didn't have to ask Jacob. _Kate wondered whether that was a reprimand. _In fact, we could show you something._

_What?_ she asked cautiously.

_We could tell you all about the Dharma Initiative. Just go south-east for a while, and you'll hit one of their stations, one you haven't seen before. There'll be information about them there._

Kate considered. There weren't likely to be people there, and that meant no more blood on her hands, for a while. _Okay_, she agreed, and changed direction. What harm could come from it?

* * *

Kate pulled the lever to the side of a large metal door, and it rolled up smoothly. Intrigued by the sophistication, she took a few tentative steps inside. She saw the familiar octagon, and wondered what this station was called.

_The Tempest_, sounded the voices, and she nodded vaguely, walking forward more confidently. It was quiet inside, and as far as she could tell, nothing was moving.

_What was this place for?_ she asked, coming around a corner to see a variety of computer and chemistry equipment, all hidden in dark shadows. _Where's the light switch?_ she thought, but there was no answer. There was a lever that might be what she was looking for, and she pulled down on it. There was a vague hissing sound from all around, which stopped after a few seconds.

"Not the light switch, then," she muttered. From the voices, there was a sense of agreement, and something else she couldn't identify. Undeterred, she continued exploring. Locating another lever, she tried it, too, and this time fluorescent lights sprung to life all around her.

_There are books about them through there_, They hinted, and Kate followed the direction indicated. As she left the main room, she didn't notice a flashing light on one computer screen that hadn't been there previously.

_Contamination completed. Air will clear in forty eight hours._

Then it abruptly changed.

_Contamination completed. Air will clear in forty seven hours, fifty nine minutes._

* * *

Jack paused, and then added another water bottle. He didn't want to waste time looking for rivers. He had some dried meat strips and a few mangoes. He had a compass, more to satisfy his own pedantic need for reliability than the actual value of the thing. He had a few standard medical supplies. He had a lighter and some cloth to make torches out of.

And he had a knife. He didn't always carry a knife when he went into the jungle, but he was going to today. Because he wasn't exploring, or going on a rescue mission. He was going hunting.

As he left the beach, he was looking around himself almost furtively. He didn't want anyone to know where he was going. It would, after all, be slightly hypocritical. He made it to the tree line without anyone speaking to him, and took one last glance at the beach. The air seemed different, suddenly. Thicker. It smelled... off. Like mouldy eggs.

Jack shrugged, and headed away from the beach.


End file.
